One Earth: The Marvel/DC RPG

[Andy C.]

Great Power
Part X​

"Okay, seriously, what is taking him so long?" I say as I pace back and forth in front of the library, bristling with impatience.

Uncle Ben was supposed to pick me up almost an hour and a half ago. Usually he's the first to tell me how important punctuality is, so I don't get what's going on tonight. Maybe he's mad at me for being short with him when he dropped me off, and is trying to teach me some kind of lesson by making me take the bus. I dunno, though, that's not really his style......

Suddenly, the sound of someone beat-boxing emanates from my right pocket, followed by rapping in Spanish....

Donde, está, la biblioteca. Me llamo T-Bone La araña discoteca.
Discoteca, muñeca, La biblioteca Está en bigotes grandes, el perro, manteca
Manteca, bigotes, gigante, pequeño, la cabeza es nieve, cerveza es bueno.
Buenos dias, me gusta papas frías, los bigotes de la cabra Es Cameron Diaz.

.....so I've got Troy and Abed as my ringtone. What of it?

"Hello?" I say, not recognizing the number.

"Peter?" says a familiar voice on the other end. "This is.....this is Captain George Stacy, NYPD."

That's.....weirdly formal of Gwen's dad to introduce himself in full like that. It's not like I haven't met him before; his daughter's my best friend, and I'm over at their place at least two or three times a week.

"Yeah, um, hi," I say with a frown, not sure why he's calling. "What, um....what's up?"

"Peter, I'm going to need you to brace yourself," he says, his voice as somber as I've ever heard him, which is really saying something. "There's been an....an incident. About an hour ago, a man broke into your aunt and uncle's house, while they were home inside."

I stop dead in my tracks, my blood turning to ice. I practically feel my heart stop beating.

"I.....wha...." I sputter. "Oh God........are they okay?"

There's a long pause on the other end.

"Captain Stacy?"

"Your aunt wasn't harmed," he finally says, uneasily. "But evidently your uncle tried to stop the intruder.............the man had a gun....."

If he said anything else, I didn't hear it. I stuff the phone in my pocket and run. I run, as fast as my legs will take me, until my muscles scream in protest, weaving past pedestrians and hurdling cars like they're not even there. Because, as far as I care, they're not there.

All that matters is getting home. Now.







----------




After running for what feels like forever, I see our house in Forest Hills. The street is closed off to traffic, and the usual dull orange glow of the streetlights is drowned out by the flashing red and blue of police cars and an ambulance.

Somewhere in the back of my head, I was praying that this wasn't real, that this was all some kind of tasteless joke. As I get closer, those hopes, as slim and ridiculous as they are, are burned away.

I plow through the yellow crime scene tape surrounding our front yard. The front door is open, the frame splintered from where it was kicked in. Inside, I see officers combing through our living room. Whatever my danger-detecting 'spider-sense' is, it's still kicked into overdrive, allowing me to see every detail while the cops are still milling around in slow motion.

Aunt May's China cabinet's been tipped over, shards of blue-on-white porcelain littered across the carpet.

The coffee table in front of the TV has been flipped on its side, my copies of EGM scattered on the floor, dirty footprints on the pages.

A picture from one of our family vacations has fallen from the mantle over the fireplace, our faces still smiling back at me through cracked glass.

One of the forensics detectives is examining a bullet hole in the wall, right next to the glass case containing Uncle Ben's Purple Heart.

"Aunt May?!" I call out, finally alerting the officers to my presence. "Uncle Ben?!"

Some of the cops hustle me out the door, saying I'm contaminating the crime scene. I don't know what they mean. This isn't a crime scene.....it's my home. It's.....

"Peter!"

I turn and see a figure running towards me, her cheeks streaked with tears. Before I can even register who it is, Gwen grabs me and holds me as tightly as she can.

"Oh, God, Peter, I'm so sorry," she says, her breath coming in gasps and sobs. "I was coming over to return a book to you, and, and I saw him break in. I called my Dad, and-- and then I heard gunshots......Peter, your uncle......he's....."

I pry Gwen's arms off of me gently, barely hearing what she's saying. My eyes are transfixed on a team of paramedics huddled around a stretcher by the back on the ambulance.

"Uncle Ben?" I say, my voice barely a frightened whisper. I don't want to see him. I want more than anything than to just run away, to run and hide and pray that this all isn't real.

But I have to see him.

Shoving my way past cops and onlooking neighbors, I make my way to the ambulance. Towards the front, I see a few of them tending to Aunt May, putting a blanket over her shoulders and offering her a cup of coffee. She doesn't say a word, still trembling in shock.

"Uncle Ben?" I ask again, the paramedics trying to crowd me out. "Let me see him!"

Lying on the stretcher in front of me, a breathing mask over his mouth, red-soaked gauze covering his chest, is the man who raised me as the son he never had. The man I knew and loved closer than my own father. The man who taught me right from wrong and what it is to be a man in this world.....

....the man I insulted and dismissed.

"....Peter?" he asks, looking around as if searching for me.

"I'm right here, Uncle Ben," I say, kneeling to him while the paramedics continue trying in vain to stop the bleeding.

God, let this be a bad dream.

Let this be a sick joke.

Just......anything, please, just.....anything.

Between shallow, pained breaths, he looks at me. His lips move as if trying to smile, but he doesn't even have that left in him. His eyes, though, smile just as brightly as every time he ever saw me.

"Pete, I'm........" he rasps. "......I'm glad.........you're okay........"

"I'm fine, Uncle Ben," I say, my own vision blurred with hot tears. "And you're gonna be fine, too, okay? You've just got to..........Uncle Ben?"

His eyes are still open, but the light in them has faded. The labored breaths and gasps for air have stopped.

He's gone.








He's.........he's gone.











I could have stopped this.

I could have been home when it happened, I could have stopped the burglar before any of this.......

Instead, I tried to get rich quick. I tried to make a quick buck off of the things I can do, to be selfish with the great power I've been given.....

And now he's gone.

"I want squad cars down on 15th and 67th now," I hear Captain Stacy say with a growl into his radio. "If our suspect's holed up there, I want him brought in within the hour, understood?"

15th Street and 67th Avenue. That's less than five blocks from here. Considering how fast I made it from Manhattan to Queens, I can be there before the cops are even close.

My hands ball up into tight, angry fists, and I start walking away from our home.

"Peter, where are you going?" Gwen calls after me. "Peter!"

I don't turn. I don't even look over my shoulder.

I just run, faster than I've ever run in my entire life.

 

[Batman]

"Is everybody okay?"

Perry's question barely registered as Lois watched Superman take off into the skies, following the climatic battle between him and the beast that had tore half of New Troy apart in the span of fifteen minutes. She had seen him up close twice before - which was twice more than many of Metropolis' citizens could ever claim - but seeing him in action was something else to behold. His raw strength, his incredible speed, the way that he effortlessly tossed the giant through a skyscraper, it was all unlike anything that she could have predicted in her wildest imagination. But more than that, what struck her as the most interesting was the fact that even though he seemed to know what he was doing, he also... didn't.

It had been clear from the beginning that Superman was relatively young. He looked to be in his early-to-mid twenties. But what if there was more to it than that? He had only been originally sighted nine months prior, but reports of a man in red and blue dated back to at least three years ago, coming in all across the world. An urban legend that evolved into very potent reality. Lois looked off into the distance, wondering to herself just how experienced he really was at this. And if there were some way for her to help him.

Lois Lane,, her mind told her. What the hell are you thinking?

Help him? Why should she care if he's "experienced" enough - whatever that even meant - to brawl with freaks and weirdos that showed up to cause some property damage every now and again? It wasn't her job to get directly involved. She was the reporter, and he was the subject of the piece. That was the extent of her involvement, and it would become nothing more.

"Chief! Chief, I got shots of it! Superman and the green guy! You're not gonna believe what I---OOF!"

In the rush of it, Jimmy Olsen tripped over a piece of debris and watched in horror as his camera went flying from his hands and into the air, sure to see his prized pictures scattered all over the pavement in the form of broken pieces of hardware. Luckily, before it could hit the ground, Lois managed to kneel down and catch it just as it dropped. Olsen looked up from the pavement as she smirked back.

"Close call, kid."

Embarrassed, Jimmy accepted the camera as she handed it back.

"Uh... thanks."

Just as Perry walked over to inspect the shots that Olsen had taken, the three of them were caught off guard as a black SUV sped up to the front of The Daily Planet building, promptly rolling over debris and crushing stray glass as it approached. The vehicle stopped just beyond the entrance, as two individuals quickly got out of the front, followed by others from the back. They were all dressed in black and white suits, wearing dark shades and brandishing weapons.

Lois instantly recognized them, flashing a sneer as they turned their sights towards the three. They worked for her father.

"Hey! You can't just park there in the middle of a---!"

Instantly, the leader of the pack produced his badge.

"Perry White? Special Agent Corben, FBI. This is my partner, Special Agent Danvers."

Stepping infront of Perry, Lois immediately became accusatory in tone and demeanor, already knowing the answer to her question.

"Wait just a minute. Who the hell sent you?!"

Corben narrowed his gaze, watching as his men forced themselves onto the scene to secure the peremeter. Danvers stepped forward, a blonde woman that looked just as serious as her predecessor.

"That's not important at this time. What is important is a matter of national security,"

"As of right now, this building is property of the United States Government. You and your entire staff are about to tell us everything you know about Superman."

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Lex never thought for a moment that it would end like this. The Gammatron one of his greatest concepts that everyone said would never work, and Dr. Banner the brilliant but socially awkward and somewhat eccentric working for him these two forces combining under the banner of LexCorp were supposed to cement his place in the pantheon of world figures for generations to come. They were not supposed to be his downfall. One thing was for certain if he was going down...then everyone was going with him.

Fury pulls the phone away and says, "General are you noticing something unusual here?"

Ross replies, "You know something Nick I am."


Betty asks, "What's going on?"

General Ross replies, "In all my years on the battlefield I have never seen anyone willing surrender, unless they had some kind of knife or small revolver up their sleeve."

Fury adds, "Or they had some kind of self-destruct device ready to go. Punch in a few numbers on the phone and this tower goes down while Lex somehow escapes."

Lex chuckles and says, "Fury you and the General are insane. Do you know how ludicrous this all sounds."

Fury replies, "For a man who is about to lose everything and be humiliated by being hauled away to prison you are being way too calm about all this."

Ross adds, "Even if we do haul you away I'm willing to bet two phone calls and lot of our findings are thrown out or conveniently lost."

Lex smirks and says, "Oh come now really. You think?"

Fury says, "Basically we have to catch you in the act."


Lex lights a cigar and says, "Good Luck with that. Many have tried and all have failed."

Fury says, "Oh don't worry I'm about to step up my game here. As of right now Dr. Ross is our official liaison between The Government and LexCorp."

Lex says, "You can't do that Fury there has to be a process there..."

Fury pulls out his gun and chambers a round and says, "I can make it look like a suicide. You've known me for a few years Lex. Have you ever known me to bluff?"

Lex gathers himself and says, "Of course we welcome Dr. Ross with open arms."

Fury says putting his gun away, "It's not just her you're gonna have to deal with. As of this moment you can expect many MANY surprise inspections from just about every Government Organization from A to Z. Watching you like a Hawk! At the end of everyday I'm gonna know what you had for Breakfast and what time you went to bed and all points in-between. Big Brother is alive and well for you Lex."

Lex is seething and says, "Don't start what you can't finish Fury."

Ross interjects, "Oh don't worry Lex WE will finish this! Count on it!"

Fury looks at Ross and gives a crooked smile. He looks back at Lex and says, "Let me make this clear. If Dr. Ross should one day decide she's had enough and throws herself out a window, has an accident here or at home, or is struck by a bolt of lighting I will come down here and personally rip your heart through your throat."

Ross says, "Sorry Nick I need to top you on this one."


Fury bows his head and motions for him to step forward.

Ross says, "Anything happens to my daughter your fault or not I don't care. I will personally lead the hunt against you and when it's over they will never find your body."

Fury says, "Well said T-Bolt."

Fury says into a radio, "We're done pack it up."

General Ross says to Betty, "You need anything call."


Betty nods and says, "I will."


Father and daughter embrace and the General whispers, "Find him. You're the only one who can save him."

Betty replies, "I will."

The Crews leave LexCorp and Lex says to Alexis, "Get me a LexCorp chopper on the roof on 10 minutes and begin working hypothetical trajectories of where The Hulk landed."

Alexis replies, "Acknowledged Mr. Luthor."

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Previously

Spoiler

​

Cameroon
Then

The jeep bounced up and down the dirt road as it cut a dusty swath through the countryside. The driver of the jeep chattered away in French, the young, dark-haired man in the passenger seat barely listened to him. Instead, the passenger's eyes were focused on what was up the road.

"Nous sommes arrivés, Monsieur Wayne," the driver said as the jeep skidded to a stop outside a grass hut.

"Oui, je vous remercie," the young man replied in flawless French. Two years "studying" in Paris had left him with a fluent understanding of the language. He handed the driver a handful of African Francs. Then, the young grabbed the canvas bag behind his seat and stepped out of the jeep. "Ce sera tout. Je peux le prendre à partir d'ici," he told the driver.

"Très bien. Ce vieil homme est fou. Vous avez besoin d'aide, tu m'appelles," the driver said with a nod.

"Oui. Je vais le faire, George."

The driver of the jeep reversed the vehicle and began back down the dirt road. The young man watched the jeep disappear down the road before turning to the hut. While he had his back turned, a man had appeared out of nowhere, a rifle in his hands.

"Explain yourself," the man said in a slight Russian accent. He slid the rifle's bolt action and cycled a round into his rifle. "Two seconds before I shoot you dead."

"My name," the young man said in English, "is Bruce Wayne. I came to speak to Sergi Kravinoff."

The older man looked at Wayne with narrowed eyes before he pulled his rifle back. "You want Kraven, richboy? You have found him. What do you want?"

"I seek knowledge. Training."


Now
Old Gotham
8:04 PM


I was crouched in the shadows, watching the lone gunman from a safe distance. Shortly before five this afternoon, he had walked into a daycare and proceeded the daycare's staff and a dozen toddlers hostage. The cops have been involved in a standoff for a little over three hours. Major Gordon was outside supervising the scene, but word from Gotham Central is that new commissioner Peter Pauling is getting antsy. In an hour, SWAT is banging down the doors. The only way that ends is with dead bodies and bullets.

There's a better way. Twenty minutes ago, I infiltrated the daycare and have been stalking the hostage taker ever since. The fourteen hostages, twelve of them scared and frightened children, were huddled together in an adjacent room.

"Attention!" Gordon's voice boomed through a megaphone outside. While his voice carried, his tone was hesitant. "This is Major James Gordon with the GCPD... You have forty-five minutes to come out with your hands up or we will... we will breech the doors."

The gunman began to pace and fidget nervously across the floor. I stayed still and watched as he wildly swung the pistol in his hands. A child in the following room started to cry, prompting an angry outburst from the gunman.

"Can you shut that goddamn kid u--," he stopped short as my forearm came out the shadows and struck him in the diaphragm. The gunman gagged and grasped for breath. I quickly disarmed him and drove him to the ground with a forceful thump.

"Run!" I shouted to the workers in the room next door. "Take the children and get out of here, but be careful!"

As the hostages and children began to leave the daycare, I had the gunman on the floor, pinned by the throat. "Please --gaak -- lemme go. Just following orders."

I relented my grip and leered at the hostage taker. "What?"

"Russian guy," he said weakly. "Told me he'd kill my family if I didn't come in here and take people hostage."

"Why?!"

"I... I don't know!"

Heavy footsteps were coming in the next room. I let go of the kidnapper and disappeared just as a cop came into the room, her gun out. "I found him," she cried out. "He's in here!"

While the members of the GCPD began to fill in the room, I was already out the daycare and on the roof of the building across the street. Someone threatened that man to take hostages. Why?

****
​

As Batman headed into the night, a pair of eyes watched him from a hidden vantage point. The man he had forced into service was adequate at doing his job. It had given him a chance to stake out the Batman and watch him in action. He was good. Patient, methodical, and ruthless when he needed to be. He needed more chances to watch his quarry, but for now Kraven the Hunter was convinced that the Batman would be a most worthy prey.

Ural Mountains
Then

The two men lay flat on their stomach on the snow-covered mountain ridge. This was their third week in the mountains. They had each come into the mountains with very little supplies. The only thing they had left were their hunting knives and the rifle, which only had six rounds left. Both men were dressed in white camouflage, frost speckled bears covered their faces.

"I see something," the younger man, Bruce Wayne, said under his breath. A large brown bear stepped out of the snowy woods. Bruce saw the dark markings on the bear's hindquarters and knew it was the same one they had been tracking for the past week.

"This is your kill," the man to Bruce's right said. For the past six months, Bruce had been under his wing. The legendary man they called the Hunter had taught him so much about tracking, scouting, and hunting.

The Hunter cycled a round into his hunting rifle and began to hand it to Bruce, before he stopped himself and laughed. "I forgot. Man who wants to be hunter, but not use guns. For you, there is only one thing."

Bruce pulled his hunting knife from its side holster. It was ten inches and had a serrated blade. "Me against a bear with nothing but my knife... Kraven, are you sure?"

"What is the first rule of the hunt?"

"'Know your prey, watch it. Study it, get inside its head. Know it like it were you own flesh and blood.'"

"Da. For past week, we watch, we study. We see bear in fighting. We know bear's every movement, we know how bear thinks. That is most valuable weapon, worth more than a thousand of my rifles."
"You're right."

Bruce began to slowly creep through the snow. He was stopped as Kraven grabbed his ankle. "I will watch," he said with a nod. "If need be, I will but bear now... but then again, maybe not. When I was in Spetsnaz , we had saying when we did not live up to expectations: 'Иногда ты ешь медведя, а иногда и несут съесть.'"
"What does that mean?"

"'Sometimes, you eat bear and sometimes bear eat you.' In your case, saying is quite literal, yes?"

"Yes," Bruce said as he began to crawl towards the bear. "Quite."




Wayne Tower
Now


"Oh, Bruce, let me introduce you to one of our newest ADAs... Pretty young thing, maybe even a potential candidate for the seat in the upcoming election."

"And me without my checkbook handy. Maybe they won't want to talk to me.."

Mrs. Van Patten, actually Judge Van Patten, laughed and took my hand. I followed behind her and let her lead me through the crowd gathered in my penthouse. The Thomas & Martha Wayne Charity Fundraiser, a black tie event I'm hoping to turn into an annual event. All proceeds going to helping lower income Gotham residents find permanent work, affordable housing, and substance abuse treatment if they need it. I may be doing... interesting work as Batman, but the work as Bruce Wayne is just as important, if not more important, to the future well-being of the city.

"Bruce Wayne," Mrs. Van Patten said as she stopped in front two people. A tall, handsome man in a tux and a shorter, blonde haired woman beside him dressed in a navy evening gown. "I want you to meet the District Attorney Office's newest star, Miss Janice Porter."

The blonde woman smiled and held her hand out for me. I shook it and grinned. "Well, the judge said you were a pretty one. I had no idea she had a habit of making understatements."

"Oh, Mister Wayne," Porter said with a laugh. "I'm flattered, by both your words and Judge Van Patten's. This is my fiance, Henry."

I shook hands with the man accompany Porter and nodded. "So, the judge tells me you may have eyes for the DA seat?"

"That's putting the cart before the horse. I've only been in town for a few months. Lots of factors to consider, and the election is a long way away."

"Well, if you're ever interested in making a run, I have lots and lots of disposable income and like most people with too much money, I like to meddle in politics. If I like what you have to offer, we can work out a deal."

"I'm flattered, I really am. But for now--"

She continued to talk, but something across the room caught my eye. Someone with their back to me, but with an unmistakable frame.

"--so just take a rain check."

"Will do," I said with a nod. "It was a pleasure meeting you both. If you'll excuse me."

I walked through the crowd, catching snippets of conversation as I navigated through the social scene.

"--missioner Pauling is just in it for the pension now, milk more time until he can retire--"

"--blepot is supposed to be coming back to town with some new business venture. His father, Chester, was always such a good businessman--"

"--And Mister Fields, let me introduce you to Miss Felicia Hardy--"

"Excuse me," I said as I approached the man. "I'm looking"

"You seek someone," the man said. He slowly turned around, revealing his face. "And you have found them. Hello, richboy," Sergi Kravenoff said with a smirk.

"Kraven," I said with a furrowed brow. "What are you doing here?"

"Not so happy to see me? We may have not parted on the best of circumstances, but you were still my friend."

"You didn't answer my question," I said. "What are you doing here?"

"The hunt, my friend. Always the hunt. It calls me to Gotham."

"But there's nothing to hunt in the city," I said with a skeptical look.

"I am working for a client. They wish to bag big game. They call me in to hunt."

"What are you hunting."

"I am--"

"Pardon me, Master Bruce," Alfred said as he approached us. "Coucilman Dickerson is requesting your presence."

"Duty calls," I said with a shrug."Enjoy the party."

"I will try. If only you would serve vodka. Drink of real men, not champagne."

"I'll see what I can do."

I nodded and followed Alfred through the party. "Soon as you can, Alfred, I want you to pull the guest list for me. See who has plus one invitations and run those people through the computer downstairs, combing through their recent financial history. Look for large amounts of cash that have been withdrawn within the last thirty days. After that, talk to security about the man I was talking to, see if he came by himself or "

"Is it related to that large Russian chap?"

"Yes. He's here tonight on business, I know it. First rule of the hunt, Alfred: Know your prey. Watch it. Study it. Get inside its head. Know it like it were your own flesh and blood.'"

"Inspired poetry, sir. But who is he?"

"Sergi Kravenoff," I said, turning to look back at him. His eyes were watching me, unblinking and focused. "And he's one of the most dangerous men in the world."

 

[bkhedr]

A subway train rumbles noisily overhead and the Gorgon waits for it to pass before speaking.​

Gathered around him is a large group of Hand ninja. To his right stands Talia al Ghul, her hands resting on her ample hips.​

"Our time has come my warriors." The Gorgon declares as the train passes and the noise begins to fade. "Now is the time for the true Hand to rise."​

A few of the red clad ninja nod in agreement but most remain deathly still, silently hanging on their master's every gesture. This is no regular gathering of Hand warriors, for these men are the deadlies, the most merciless of the ancient cult's foot soldiers. They are the most dedicated of the Hand and they have been individually chosen by the Gorgon to serve him. They are his private army. They are the Hand of the Gorgon and they have come here, to a long abandoned subway station beneath Gotham city, to do his bidding.​

"This forgotten place will serve as our headquarters on this continent." He continues, spreading his arms to encompass the space around them. "Treat it as you would our ancient city. Fortify it, keep it hidden," his voice hardens "And kill any unfortunate enough to stumple upon it."​

"Hail Gorgon!" The Ninja announce their reply in unison.​

"Hail the Beast." The Gorgon answers back before a wave of his hand puts them in motion.​

"Most impressive Gorgon." Talia al Ghul comments dryly as the Ninja silently go about the business of turning the station into a proper haven "To command such loyalty, particularly in opposition to the Elders."​

"The Elders are weak" The Gorgon snorts "And these are but the first of many. Soon my warriors will be legion."​

"Such confidence." Talia says with a wry smile "Why then have you not yet moved against your former masters?"​

The Gorgon move impossibly fast, wrapping a powerful hand around Talia's throat and pinning her against a brick wall. Talia almost immediately shakes off her initial surprise and struggles against his grip only to find that he is far, far too strong for her.​

"You do not fear me Talia Al Ghul." He growls "That is a mistake."​

He tightens his grip and Talia feels her wind pipe tighten even as the ninja around them continue to go about their business, seemingly oblivious to her sudden plight. For the briefest of instances, blind panic, threatens to fill her mind, but she fights the feeling back and glares at the Gorgon with all the defiance she can muster, for she is Talia Al Ghul and she was not raised to know fear.​

"You are here to serve me woman." The Gorgon says. If he's impressed by her stubborn courage he does not show it. "Do so and you will live. Continue to question me and I will rip off your head. Do you understand?"​

She can tell that he is serious and Talia nods her acquiscence, though her glare does not soften. This prompts him to release her and she coughs and rubs her throat where his grip is already leaving an angry red mark.​

"And how would you have me serve?" She asks, her voice raspy.​

"For now I would have you show me the proper respect." He snarls before reaching for a small bracelet like device strapped to his forearm and activating it.​

The device, a personal teleporter of his design, emits a bright white light that surrounds the Gorgon and as he starts to turn transluscent and fade away he gives Talia a cold look.​

"I go to move against my former masters."​

​

Ancient wood creaks and groans in protest then bursts inward, showering the inside of the Hand's temple with splinters of what was once a door that had never been breached.​

The three Elders flinch in spite of themselves, their sudden fear awakening long forgotten reflexes, and they raise their arms to cover their withered reptilian faces from the natural light shining through the now open doorway even as their last few remaining guardsmen flow forward like water. Ready to meet the intruder head on.​

The Gorgon steps through the doorway with the light at his back, blood dripping from his crimson blade.​

The undead ninja warriors show no fear, no hesitation. Their devotion to their masters is rewarded with swift and final death as the Gorgon slices his way through them, severing limbs, heads and anything unfortunate enough to fall under his sword.​

The Elders' eyes widen in terror as their defenders dwindle and the Gorgon moves forward relentlessly. They would turn to run, but they are paralyzed by fear, not to mention the knowledge that they have not so much as left this chamber in centuries. They know they would not get far even if they could escape.​

As the last of the ninja fall one Elder, perhaps blinded by panic, stretches his arm out, pointing a crooked finger at the approaching Gorgon​

"Stop him!" He commands desperately with a decaying voice; but there is already no one left to obey and the only response is the slashing Grasscutter which severs the arm at the elbow.​

"AAARGH!!"​

The sound of the screaming Elder is thick with terror mixed with primordial evil. It is a chilling sound even to the Elders themselves and they huddle together and back away as the Gorgon swipes his blade sharply through the air to shake loose the wounded Elder's sticky green blood.​

Satisfied that the blade is sufficiently clean, the Gorgon sheathes his weapon, slowly, relishing the terror emanating from those whom he once called masters.​

"Wh-what is the meaning of this Gorgon?" One Elder asks, trying and failing to sound in control.​

"I have come to end you and claim my rightful place at the head of the Hand." The Gorgon replies, scowling at the Elder.​

"Rightful place?" The wounded Elder says through gritted teeth "How dare y-"​

The Elder is instantly silenced as the flashing blade of the Grasscutter severs his head cleanly. The remaining Elders recoil in horror as the head rolls to a corner and comes to a stop and the Gorgon, satisfied that he has made his point, once again shakes his sword clean and resheathes it.​

"What do you want?" One of the Elders asks timidly, his limbs and head tucked close to his body.​

"I want what I have always wanted, to serve the Beast and cleanse this world of the crime of life." The Gorgon's eyes narrowed behind his mask "I have decided that it is a mission you are unqualified to accomplish."​

"We-" The second remaining Elder began but the Gorgon silenced him with a raised palm.​

"You had millenia to burn this world and you have failed. You thought to use me to accomplish what you have so far failed to do. I intend to, but you will not be here to see it."​

"How do you propose to do that boy?" The first Elder asked, anger mixing with his fear and giving him some modicum of a backbone "This world is littered with freaks of nature, mutants, demigods. Even the mighty Gorgon, formidable though you may be, cannot stand against them all."​

The Gorgon's lips curled into a menacing smile that made the Elder shudder​

"I know about the ancient weapon that fell from the stars." The Gorgon says "And I have come to claim the heart of darkness and raise it."​

The second Elder shook his head "You are mad. The ancient weapon is inert. It will not rise. It will not move."​

"Not for you." The Gorgon growled "But I have communed with the Beast and he has shown me the way; and when I bring the ancinet weapon to life not even the most powerful freak of nature, whether he be born of mythology or the stars, will be able to stand against it."​

"You-" The Elder's eyes widened with a startling realization.​

"Yes. I have died and been reborn." The Gorgon lunged towards the Elders and wrapped a hand around each of their needle thin, scaly necks "And you will show me where the heart is."​

 

[bkhedr]

Three hours ago, about an hour into his evening, Tony Stark was wondering why he ever let an old dinosaur like Captain America get under his skin.​

An hour ago Tony Stark forgot all about Captain America.​

"You know what Alexis? Its Alexis right?" He says to one of the beautiful women draped over his shoulders.​

"Actually its Cind-"​

"It doesn't matter." He cuts her off and holds a pair of red dice up to her lips "Blow please."​

The woman knows better than to waste her time trying to correct him and she dutifully blows on the dice before he flings them down the table.​

The gathered crowd of socialites, reporters, holidaymakers and business elites let out a roar of approval as the dealer declares that Stark has won again and the girl behind his other shoulder, the one standing next to Cindy, bends over and gives him a congratulatory kiss on the cheek.​

"Anyway the thing is.." Tony continues, talking to Cindy, but speaking loud enough for all to hear "The thing is, saving the world is stressful work."​

A waitress walks by and replaces the empty glass in front of Stark with a full one​

"Mmm. Thanks sweetie" He takes a big gulp, emptying half the glass "And the way I see it anyone who saves the world, or you know, at least D.C. ought to have earned a party."​

This statement is met with more enthusiatic cheering from all around the casino floor. Las Vegas may be a city of many stars but its not everyday Iron Man gambles on the general floor with all the normal people and he's attracting a huge crowd that keeps growing by the minute.​

"So I say..." he pauses, relishing how they hang on his every word "...drinks are on me!!"​

The crowd goes wild and Tony is promptly showered with pats on the shoulder and kisses on both cheeks. He grins widely, letting their joy wash over him and is about to say something else when gunfire suddenly fills the air.​

​

Panic and screams fill the air as bullets whizz all around while Tony does what any self respecting playboy billionaire would do in such a situation and ducks under the table with Cindy and Amanda holding on tight and screaming at the top of their lungs.

Tony is still trying to assess the rapidly developing situation when Amanda grabs him by the lapels of his suit.

"Do something!! Save us!!"

Despite the present danger, Tony can't help but give her a disbeleiving look.

"Do I look like I'm wearing a suit of powered battle armor right now?" He asks only for her to begin tearing up

"You know what fine." Tony says with a sigh "Just stay down."

The panicked woman nods frantically and presses herself lower to the ground as Tony shakes his head and peers around the edge of the table.

The gunfire has died down and from Tony can see the entire casino floor seems to be under assault simultaneously. He can see the damage done to the casino and notes that virtually everyone is staying as low and out sight as possible. The only thing he can't see is the attackers.

He begins to scan for them when he feels something cold and hard pressed against the back of his neck.

Tony freezes and raises his arms slightly

"Tony Stark." He hears a disembodied voice say "You are now our prisoner."

This actually reassures Stark. "Prisoner" means that he won't be getting shot, at least not this exact second.

"And you are?" He asks with practiced nonchalance.

The answer comes in the form of a shimmering display of light at several points around the casino which Stark quickly recognizes as some sort of cloaking fields being deactivated.

He turns his head slightly, looking over his shoulder, and sees what he can only describe as a high tech bee keeper looking back at him.

"We are the Advanced Idea Mechanics and we have come for the Iron Man armor."​

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Spoiler

The cargo plane bounced and shook as it flew just a few hundred feet above the water. The Fantastic Four were in the back of the plane, holding on for dear life. Major General William Lumpkin and Captain Frankie Raye, the Four's liaison with the US military, were seated near them.

"We're nearly there," Lumpkin said to the group. "Just a few more miles."

"What are we gonna to look at?" Ben asked.

"You'll see when we get there, Major Grimm."

A few minutes later, the cargo plane touched down on the USS Harry S. Truman and came to a stop atop the supercarrier. They exited the plane and were greeted by a small procession of naval officers.

"General Lumpkin," the lead naval officer said with a salute. "Captain James Pembroke, CO of the HST."

Lumpkin nodded and returned his salute. "This is my assistant, Air Force Captain Raye and my four associates... I believe you know them."

Pembroke went for handshakes with all of the Four, warmly greeting them. "Doctors Richards and Storm. Major Grimm, Mister Storm. Honor to meet you all. Welcome to the ship."

"Why exactly are we here, Captain?"

"Follow us, please."

The Four and their Air Force cohorts followed Captain Pembroke through the halls of the aircraft carrier to the bridge. "We were on our way to the Sinai Peninsula when we began to pick up strange readings on the sonar."

The captain handed Reed a copy of the sonar logs from that day. "Interesting. I seem to recall there was some minor seismic activity in this area. Very interesting."

"It gets even more odder. We sent down a few divers and they found this..."

Reed looked at the photographs Pembroke passed him. Reed's mouth slightly hung open as he saw what was in front of him.

"This is..."

"Yes. We think so."

"What is it?"

Reed handed Sue the photo and saw the shocked look on her face. The picture was of rotten and dilapidated buildings, wedged in the mud on the bottom of the sea.

"I believe we have found the ruins of Atlantis."
​

USS Harry S. Truman
Mediterranean Sea
500 Miles West of Cyprus


Johnny Storm sat at the edge of the aircraft carrier and looked out at the horizon in front of him. The rest of the Fantastic Four were bellow deck, working on what they thought was the discovery of the lost city Atlantis.

"Are you okay, Storm," a voice asked from behind. Johnny turned around and saw Captain Frankie Raye, General Lumpkin's XO, standing a few feet away.

"I'm fine, Captain," Johnny said, turning to look back out at the ocean.

"What are you doing all out here by yourself," she asked. Johnny heard footsteps and scooted over as Frankie sat down beside him. Frankie had read the report from last week. That incident in Baltimore had shaken Storm up pretty bad. He'd been distant since then. Lumpkin had suggested to Reed that Storm see Major Grimm's psychiatrist, Dr. Masters, but Frankie hadn't heard any updates on that.

"They don't need me right now. Figured I'd come out here and alone with my thoughts."

"You never know, they could need your help."

"Yeah, right," Johnny said with a scoff. "In case you haven't noticed, Reed is the smartest man on the planet. My job is to tag along and follow Sue's orders, flame on when I'm supposed to, and have her yell at me when she gets mad. That's it. I'm completely useless. At least Ben's a pilot. I'm an actor, what the hell can I do? I'm only here because of dumb luck. I pretty much blackmailed my way on to that shuttle flight."

"Don't sell yourself short, Stor-- Johnny. Doctor Richards may be a genius, but you have something that he lacks."

Johnny looked at Frankie and arched his eyebrow. "You have common sense... most of the time."

"So, you're telling me that driving a porsche in full Human Torch mode isn't a smart decision?"

"I would say so."

"Duly noted, Captain."

"Please, call me Frankie."

*****


​

Below deck, the rest of the Fantastic Four and General Lumpkin watched the screen inside the captain's conference room. On the monitor was a video feed connected to the robotic probe thousands of feet below the sea. The robotic submarine floated through the ruins of the city underwater.

"Wait," Reed said, stretching his arm all the way across the room and tapping a spot on the screen. "What's that?"

The crewman guiding the probe guided the sub to the spot Reed had pointed at. The spotlight on the sub shinned on the object. It was a long, rectangular box stuck in the mud of the sea floor. It appeared to be metallic, and tinged with rust. Words were inscribed on the box.

Προσοχή:
Εδώ βρίσκεται η Vαμορ
προδότης Μην ανοίγετε σε καμία περίπτωση.


​

"What is that?" Lumpkin asked as he leaned in to look.

"Looks kinda like a gravestone," Ben said. "Even got some fancy words on it. Reed, Sue, can you two eggheads make those words out?"

"It looks Greek, but not. Almost like ancient Greek."

"I think it's another dialect," Reed said. He pulled a pen and notepad and began to scribble the words down. "It's close, but I think I can make a quick translation..."

"Crewman, can you attach the sub's wench to that and pull it up to the surface?'

"Yes, sir," the crewman said. The sub began to work on towing the box, wrapping its cables around the landmark. The sub bumped into it and knocked the box down to the sea floor. Suddenly, bubbles began to rise from a growing crack in the side of the box.

"What's going on?"

The box swung open and a dark figure burst out and rushed towards the sub. The video feed faltered and cut out, static crackling on the screen.

"The hell was that?"

"Something bad," Reed said as he held the notepad up. "A rough translation of the words on that tomb? 'Caution: here lies the traitor Namor. Do not open under any circumstances...'"

*****

"So, what's your story?" Johnny asked. "Everyone and their mother know about me and the Four, but how'd you end up in the Air Force, assigned to us?"

"Well, it's not that interesting, but--"

Frankie was cut off as something erupted from the ocean and launched into the air.

​

"FREEDOM!" The man cried as he hovered above the water. He had a pair of wings on each ankle, the wings flapped so rapidly they were blurs. "Where is that cur dog that imprisoned the true King of Atlantis, Namor?! I would face him, and rip his head from his body! FACE ME, IF YOU DARE!"

"Well...," Johnny said as he stood. "I guess we'll have to do a rain check on that story. Look out, I'm about to heat up. Flame on!"

Johnny combusted into flames and took off from the deck of the carrier, charging towards Namor in a flaming streak.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Banner continues his trek back from the waste-lands when he sees an abandoned Gas Station. He breaks a pane of glass and manages to get an arm through and unlocks the door.

Bruce then finds an old pair of coveralls and puts them on along with a pair of boots. They are baggy and very dusty but he is at least fully dressed again.

Beats the heck out of my ripped up hospital scrubs. Now for something to eat I'm starving.

He rummages around and finds a box of Twinkees and can of Pepsi.

Okay not exactly the most nutritious things in the world but for the moment beggars cannot be choosy.

Bruce begins to eat the Twinkees and drink the Pepsi. Once he has finished his feast he ventures back out and continues his trek back to Metropolis. All the while troubled by occasional visions of great violence and mayhem.

Just then he sees something in the distance.


All-right a helicopter! Looks like I'm gonna be all-right after all I....

Then a troubling thought occurs to him

What would a chopper be doing out here in the middle of the Waste Lands unless....

Bruce then takes off into the canyons and tries to hide among the rocks.

Why do I have a very bad feeling about this one?

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Previously

Spoiler

Ural Mountains
Then

The two men lay flat on their stomach on the snow-covered mountain ridge. This was their third week in the mountains. They had each come into the mountains with very little supplies. The only thing they had left were their hunting knives and the rifle, which only had six rounds left. Both men were dressed in white camouflage, frost speckled bears covered their faces.

"I see something," the younger man, Bruce Wayne, said under his breath. A large brown bear stepped out of the snowy woods. Bruce saw the dark markings on the bear's hindquarters and knew it was the same one they had been tracking for the past week.

"This is your kill," the man to Bruce's right said. For the past six months, Bruce had been under his wing. The legendary man they called the Hunter had taught him so much about tracking, scouting, and hunting.

The Hunter cycled a round into his hunting rifle and began to hand it to Bruce, before he stopped himself and laughed. "I forgot. Man who wants to be hunter, but not use guns. For you, there is only one thing."

Bruce pulled his hunting knife from its side holster. It was ten inches and had a serrated blade. "Me against a bear with nothing but my knife... Kraven, are you sure?"

"What is the first rule of the hunt?"

"'Know your prey, watch it. Study it, get inside its head. Know it like it were you own flesh and blood.'"

"Da. For past week, we watch, we study. We see bear in fighting. We know bear's every movement, we know how bear thinks. That is most valuable weapon, worth more than a thousand of my rifles."
"You're right."

Bruce began to slowly creep through the snow. He was stopped as Kraven grabbed his ankle. "I will watch," he said with a nod. "If need be, I will but bear now... but then again, maybe not. When I was in Spetsnaz , we had saying when we did not live up to expectations: 'Иногда ты ешь медведя, а иногда и несут съесть.'"
"What does that mean?"

"'Sometimes, you eat bear and sometimes bear eat you.' In your case, saying is quite literal, yes?"

"Yes," Bruce said as he began to crawl towards the bear. "Quite."




Wayne Tower
Now


"Oh, Bruce, let me introduce you to one of our newest ADAs... Pretty young thing, maybe even a potential candidate for the seat in the upcoming election."

"And me without my checkbook handy. Maybe they won't want to talk to me.."

Mrs. Van Patten, actually Judge Van Patten, laughed and took my hand. I followed behind her and let her lead me through the crowd gathered in my penthouse. The Thomas & Martha Wayne Charity Fundraiser, a black tie event I'm hoping to turn into an annual event. All proceeds going to helping lower income Gotham residents find permanent work, affordable housing, and substance abuse treatment if they need it. I may be doing... interesting work as Batman, but the work as Bruce Wayne is just as important, if not more important, to the future well-being of the city.

"Bruce Wayne," Mrs. Van Patten said as she stopped in front two people. A tall, handsome man in a tux and a shorter, blonde haired woman beside him dressed in a navy evening gown. "I want you to meet the District Attorney Office's newest star, Miss Janice Porter."

The blonde woman smiled and held her hand out for me. I shook it and grinned. "Well, the judge said you were a pretty one. I had no idea she had a habit of making understatements."

"Oh, Mister Wayne," Porter said with a laugh. "I'm flattered, by both your words and Judge Van Patten's. This is my fiance, Henry."

I shook hands with the man accompany Porter and nodded. "So, the judge tells me you may have eyes for the DA seat?"

"That's putting the cart before the horse. I've only been in town for a few months. Lots of factors to consider, and the election is a long way away."

"Well, if you're ever interested in making a run, I have lots and lots of disposable income and like most people with too much money, I like to meddle in politics. If I like what you have to offer, we can work out a deal."

"I'm flattered, I really am. But for now--"

She continued to talk, but something across the room caught my eye. Someone with their back to me, but with an unmistakable frame.

"--so just take a rain check."

"Will do," I said with a nod. "It was a pleasure meeting you both. If you'll excuse me."

I walked through the crowd, catching snippets of conversation as I navigated through the social scene.

"--missioner Pauling is just in it for the pension now, milk more time until he can retire--"

"--blepot is supposed to be coming back to town with some new business venture. His father, Chester, was always such a good businessman--"

"--And Mister Fields, let me introduce you to Miss Felicia Hardy--"

"Excuse me," I said as I approached the man. "I'm looking"

"You seek someone," the man said. He slowly turned around, revealing his face. "And you have found them. Hello, richboy," Sergi Kravenoff said with a smirk.

"Kraven," I said with a furrowed brow. "What are you doing here?"

"Not so happy to see me? We may have not parted on the best of circumstances, but you were still my friend."

"You didn't answer my question," I said. "What are you doing here?"

"The hunt, my friend. Always the hunt. It calls me to Gotham."

"But there's nothing to hunt in the city," I said with a skeptical look.

"I am working for a client. They wish to bag big game. They call me in to hunt."

"What are you hunting."

"I am--"

"Pardon me, Master Bruce," Alfred said as he approached us. "Coucilman Dickerson is requesting your presence."

"Duty calls," I said with a shrug."Enjoy the party."

"I will try. If only you would serve vodka. Drink of real men, not champagne."

"I'll see what I can do."

I nodded and followed Alfred through the party. "Soon as you can, Alfred, I want you to pull the guest list for me. See who has plus one invitations and run those people through the computer downstairs, combing through their recent financial history. Look for large amounts of cash that have been withdrawn within the last thirty days. After that, talk to security about the man I was talking to, see if he came by himself or "

"Is it related to that large Russian chap?"

"Yes. He's here tonight on business, I know it. First rule of the hunt, Alfred: Know your prey. Watch it. Study it. Get inside its head. Know it like it were your own flesh and blood.'"

"Inspired poetry, sir. But who is he?"

"Sergi Kravinoff," I said, turning to look back at him. His eyes were watching me, unblinking and focused. "And he's one of the most dangerous men in the world."

Then
Kenya

Both Bruce Wayne and his mentor Sergi Kravinoff, better known as the legendary Kraven the Hunter, were walking through the brush of the Savanna. They each were carrying opposite ends of a pole. Hog-tied on the pole was a dead board. They walked towards the hut they had called home for the last few months.

"Our time here is ending," Kraven said nonchalantly. "I have taught you almost all that I can teach. You can track, stalk, and hunt masterfully."

"You've been a good teacher, Kraven," Bruce said.

"You have been a good pupil. Not too bad for a rich boy."

"I can make arrangements and be on my way by the end of the week."

"Good. Because tonight, we will have our final lesson. One last hunt."

"What will we be after?"

"Tonight," Kraven said with a twinkle in his eyes, "we hunt the most dangerous animal,"



Now
Old Gotham
12:05 AM


I shot out a grapnel line into the night and waited for it to catch on the nearby building. The party was barely over, and I was out into the night. This is where I belong. And, besides, Billy Russo was in need of a talking to.

Alfred found out rather quickly that Kraven was at the party on Russo's invitation. I normally made it a habit of not inviting mobster trash to my parties, but the people at the foundation were responsible for sending out invites.

The line went taught and I swung into the air, swinging by the courthouse and gliding over the rooftops of the oldest part of the city like the winged creature some criminals believed I was.

KRAK!

A rifle broke the stillness of the night. I gasped in shock as my grapnel line went slack, the rifle's bullet severing the line. I began to free-fall towards the street, tumbling and twirling through the air. I struggled with my belt and pulled out an emergency line. Desperate, I wildly aimed at a stone gargoyle on the building above me. The line caught and I jerked with the sudden stop, swinging to the right and crashing through the office building's window. I fell hard to the floor and rolled to the stop, dazed and in pain.

That's when I heard the footsteps.

"This is what you have become?" A voice said from above. I felt strong, powerful hands on my neck. I was picked up and shoved into the face of my former teacher. "You were a great hunter once," Kraven said with a sigh.
"And you used to be sane," I growled as I swung my arm at Kraven's head. He had his hand out and waiting, dropping me to the floor, countering my strike and twisting my arm behind my back in one swift move. Kraven growled and kept twisting my arm. I gritted my teeth and bared the pain.

"I could kill you now, it would be easy. For a week, I watch and wait. I see you in action. And I am disgusted by what I see?"

"Someone who can kill but doesn't?"

"No. I see a once great hunter reduced to being a fool in a costume, a fool who relies on toys and not the hunters instincts."

With his free hand, Kraven reached down and ripped my utility belt from my waist. "I am going to kill you. I was paid to kill bat, I will kill bat. But not before I shame you to the point where you will be begging me for death."

Kraven brought down the butt of his palm on my head, knocking me unconscious in one fluid motion.

******

I came to, groggy and dazed. I ran my hands across the ground and felt gravel. Through my half shut eyes, I looked up and saw my bare hands. Kraven had stripped me of my gloves and gauntlets. Standing up, I saw what else he had done. In addition to my belt and gloves, my boots and cape were gone. Just my suit and cowl remained. I was on a rooftop somewhere in the industrial area of town, factories, plants, and smokestacks cluttered up the skyline.

"Your toys are gone," Kraven's voice said from somewhere close, somewhere I couldn't see. "All there is now is the hunter and the hunted. It is time for you to die, richboy. The hunt begins now."
​

 

[Andy C.]

Great Power
Finale​

Uncle Ben is gone. He was shot by a burglar, a man with a gun who broke into our home while I was out beating people up for money. The police tracked the killer down to an old warehouse not far from home. I'm there before the cops are anywhere in sight.

Sneaking in from the roof, I change back into the tights and mask that I got at the wrestling match tonight-- Peter Parker may not be the most intimidating man in the world, but Spider-Man ought to put some fear into him.

I crawl along the ceiling, the unlit building giving me no shortage of shadows to move through without being seen. There's a chance that he's still got his gun, and I don't plan on letting him use it, on anyone ever again.

"Okay, okay, keep it cool," I hear a voice off in the distance. "You can still do this. You can still get away......just think.....you can still get away....."

Oh no you can't. Not after what you did.

I vault down from the ceiling, a blur in the darkness as I approach, leaping from shadow to shadow. I can see the man's outline, silhouetted against a large dirty plate-glass window.

"Who's there?!"

The killer spins, brandishing his gun nervously. He squeezes the trigger, and an ear-shattering BANG reverberates through the room. It's panic fire, not aimed at anything but the darkness. I stalk forward, ready to jump on him.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" I say, my voice roiling with anger.

"Who is that?! Show yourself!"

I do what he says, leaping from the shadows to deliver a punch that sends him sliding across the concrete.

He clutches his chest, wheezing and sucking in air through gritted teeth.

"What......God, I--"

"Shut up!" I yell, yanking him to his feet. "A good man is dead because of you."

"Oh, Jesus, the old guy died?" he says, trembling in my hands. "Look, I just needed the money, I didn't--"

"I said shut up!" I snarl, throwing him into a concrete pillar.

The killer crumples to the floor in a heap, letting out something between a growl and a pained sob. I'm hurting him, probably worse than anyone's ever hurt him in his whole life. And after what he did to Uncle Ben, he deserves it.

I'm going to tear him limb from limb for what he did.

"....I didn't want to hurt him...." he says in between ragged gasps. "....I needed the money......have to pay Kingpin......he'll kill me....."

"Kingpin?" I say, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up. "Who's that?"

"I--no one! I didn't say nothin'!" he says in a panic. "Oh God, don't hurt me!"

"It's too late for that," I say, holding him up with one hand, my other balled into a fist. "People like you don't get mercy."

Suddenly, the room is flooded with blinding white light......spotlights from below. Captain Stacy and the NYPD have finally caught up.

"Attention," I hear Stacy say over a megaphone. "We have the building surrounded. Come out with your hands up!"

My eyes readjust to the brightness, and I finally get a look at the killer's face.

He's got ugly two-day stubble.....

....badly-dyed blonde hair.....

...on his face, an expression of hungry, desperate fear.

"......no......"


It's him. The robber from the wrestling match.

I let him go. I was so mad at the promoter for screwing me out of my money that I watched this man hold him at gunpoint and run, and I didn't lift a finger to stop him.

I let him go. And Uncle Ben died.

I did this.

This is.......this is my fault.

In a daze, I release my grip. The killer stumbles to the floor, then scrambles for his gun.

"I'm not going back to jail," he says in frenzied fear. "Not where Kingpin can find me! I'm not going back!"

He points the gun right at me and fires.

My hyper-cognitive reflexes--my 'Spider Sense'--kicks in, and the world slows to a crawl, the bullet inching towards me from a cloud of superheated gas. Instinct takes over, and I twist my body out of harm's way, ducking down, and coming up with a punch that sends him flying away....

....and through the third-story window.

"NO!" I shout when I realize what I've done. I run to the hole in the shattered glass to dive after him, but by the time I'm there, it's too late.

Catching myself on the outside wall and looking down, I see his broken frame on the pavement, his legs twitching slightly, a pool of blood spreading from underneath him.

"Up there! Get a light on him" I hear Captain Stacy order. That's when I realize they're looking at me.

"FREEZE! RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE!"

Part of me wants to turn myself in right now. I did this, and I should have to pay for it.

Another part of me wants to get away, as far and fast as I can, and forget what I did tonight.

And somewhere in the back of my head, yet another part of me wants to make sure that nobody else has to go through what I've been through tonight. That because I used my abilities selfishly, I learned the hard way to make sure it doesn't happen again.

That niggling little voice, repeating what Uncle Ben tried to tell me before.....

.....with great power......there must also come great responsibility.......


Whether it's a higher purpose or simple fear, I make up my mind.....and I run off into the night, Captain Stacy and the police shouting after me.

 

[Batman]

"First question. When did you first encounter the individual known as Superman?"

Needless to say, Lois Lane didn't particularly care for men of the government.

It wasn't a generalization that she had developed easily - she was brash and thickheaded, but she also prided herself on building a strong morale that wasn't defined by pettiness or prejudice. She was a reporter at heart, and she defined the job as a messenger of fact. It went against her very nature to ever make an immediate impression based off of what was presented at face value. Naturally, the idea of a government man began with memories of growing up with a military man as a father. But it hardly tainted her view of the matter. Looking back, her childhood was one that ultimately brought both it's good days and bad days, just like any normal family would have.

What began her immediate distrust, however, was a certain look that every man with a badge or a set of stars had given her ever since she was a little girl. That stubborn, innate condescension that made the individual instantly readable as a person. Her father had given it to both her and her sister many times before, particularly following the death of her mother. Experiencing it, it was if he were broken inside, pledging himself to his country before he would ever consider giving a part of himself to his family again. That heartbreaking realization began what would become the person that Lois is now, determined to never allow herself to become a simple shell of her father.

Special Agent John Corben reminded her all too well of everything she wasn't. They had been locked in the staff conference room of The Daily Planet for fifteen minutes for what they were calling an 'interview' - but what seemed to be increasingly evident as an interrogation instead. No requests granted, no pleasantries. He hadn't even said so much as a word beyond giving out simple commands. And his stare was the same as the General's.

She wasn't telling him anything. Her mind was already made up before they barged their way onto Planet property, but knowing what they were after - who they were after - made it even more clear that giving away so much as a shred of key information would damage her goal in all of this. They wanted Superman so badly? She already had him. And when it was all said and done, it was going to be the story of the century.

"Silent treatment? Very well. I'll ask a second time, Miss Lane. But not a third."

He placed his hands together, calculated to such a degree that it was meant to be unnerving. Lois had honestly seen worse. This man was either new to his position or had already underestimated her on the spot.

"Superman. You were the first recorded citizen in Metropolis to have seen him up close, but the details beyond that are somewhat limited. My department was hoping you could shed some further light on that."

"Did they?"

Lois sneered. "Well, your superiors are going to be very disappointed, aren't they?"

Without so much as a pause, Corben stared back and narrowed his eyes. Usually, the cliche of his type would be to leave their sunglasses on, to hide any tells of trade secrets or information that the department already knew through their expressions. The way that Corben stared, however, made Lois wish he would have bought into that stereotype.

"I'll remind you that being uncooperative with a United States official can be considered an offense."

She wasn't phased. "And I'll remind you that I'm not a suspect or a prisoner."

"Not yet, certainly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Corben raised his head. "It can mean any number of things, Miss Lane. But right now, I'm not permitted to detail what exactly they could be. So for the sake of any unpleasant surprises, why don't you just answer the question?"

Uncharacteristically, Lois smirked. Oh, so it's going to be like that?

"Frankly, I'm not even sure I know what you're talking about. I've never claimed to know any kind of 'Superman', and your assertion that I have is a bit amusing."

"So now you're lying to an official aswell?"

"No,", she corrected, sternly. "I'm not denying anything. But I'm not confirming anything, either. The Planet's encounters with Superman are a matter of public record, but what you're looking for is something more than that. And I'm just suggesting that what you're looking for doesn't exist."

For a moment, Corben almost seemed to smirk himself. But he hid it well, reaching into his jacket.

"Clever, Miss Lane. But dodging the issue doesn't exactly bode well for your track record, does it?"

Lois raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, my 'track record'?"

"Your reputation as a columnist. You take an awful lot of risks in your profession. Some would even be considered more... illegal than others."

"Oh, please."

Lois scoffed off the assertion. "Ask anyone in that room about that 'profession' you're talking about, and tell me just how many of them have never stepped over the boundaries that people like you have placed in the way of what we're employed to deliver."

"So you admit to committing illegal activities."

"Once again, Corben..."

This time, he really did smirk. But not in a pleasant way.

"You neither confirm nor deny. I see."

"You're beginning to catch on. I didn't think you Washington boys understood the language of us lowly individuals."

"I understand the language, as you call it, perfectly fine. After all..."

"I know your father."

I've covered every surrounding area within a one-thousand mile radius. Unless he made it out to sea and I simply wasn't able to spot him underneath the waves, The Hulk has completely disappeared. Twelve feet tall, boasting green skin and an unbelieveable mass, and he's as distinct to me as any number of the people being evacuated on the streets below. I could honestly say that it defies all logic and comprehension, but I'd be nothing less than a hypocrite to do so. Nevertheless, it only grows more frustrating to know that somewhere, the giant is out there, fully capable of causing the same amount of destruction and chaos that he did in Metropolis - if not moreso - and that with the luck I've had so far, I'd be far too late to put a stop to it.

It doesn't make sense. Why attack the city only to scower away after realizing the danger? Surely, he knew what his tantrum was going to cause. Or he was so blinded with rage that he didn't care. But the way that he reacted when the people looked at him, fearfully pleading for him to stop - it was like he understood. More than that, it was like he actually felt empathy for all of the harm that he had caused. Which means that while his mind is certainly volitile enough to cause that destruction, he still has something of a soul.

Maybe it's for the best that it ended the way it did. To continue the fight only would have meant more destruction, more danger. But until I figure out a better way to approach these situations, or whatever you could call them, I don't feel like I have any other choice. Even though I was raised to believe differently, fighting the unfightable seems like the only way to be able to stand up for the defenseless. I just wish it wasn't the case.

Flying low into the heart of New Troy, I survey the damage and try not to look away. Some notice me and try to get a picture, others start to run. There's even a few police officers that draw their weapons, bracing themselves for another incident. I almost want to land to explain my side of the story, but it seems pointless. They've made up their mind about what happened. And about me.

So quietly, I drift off into the skies and try to return home. What happened is over, and my responsibilities as Clark Kent can once again take priority over trading punches. But even still, I have to wonder to myself just how long this is going to last. Am I always going to be called into action to defend the city from some abbaration of science, or some monstrous creature bent on complete destruction? Or is there something worse out there, waiting for me just beyond the cracks, waiting to slip through and make the city an even bigger battleground.

Good lord, Clark. It only happened twice. You don't need to be so morbid about it...

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Previously

Spoiler

​

USS Harry S. Truman
Mediterranean Sea
500 Miles West of Cyprus


Johnny Storm sat at the edge of the aircraft carrier and looked out at the horizon in front of him. The rest of the Fantastic Four were bellow deck, working on what they thought was the discovery of the lost city Atlantis.

"Are you okay, Storm," a voice asked from behind. Johnny turned around and saw Captain Frankie Raye, General Lumpkin's XO, standing a few feet away.

"I'm fine, Captain," Johnny said, turning to look back out at the ocean.

"What are you doing all out here by yourself," she asked. Johnny heard footsteps and scooted over as Frankie sat down beside him. Frankie had read the report from last week. That incident in Baltimore had shaken Storm up pretty bad. He'd been distant since then. Lumpkin had suggested to Reed that Storm see Major Grimm's psychiatrist, Dr. Masters, but Frankie hadn't heard any updates on that.

"They don't need me right now. Figured I'd come out here and alone with my thoughts."

"You never know, they could need your help."

"Yeah, right," Johnny said with a scoff. "In case you haven't noticed, Reed is the smartest man on the planet. My job is to tag along and follow Sue's orders, flame on when I'm supposed to, and have her yell at me when she gets mad. That's it. I'm completely useless. At least Ben's a pilot. I'm an actor, what the hell can I do? I'm only here because of dumb luck. I pretty much blackmailed my way on to that shuttle flight."

"Don't sell yourself short, Stor-- Johnny. Doctor Richards may be a genius, but you have something that he lacks."

Johnny looked at Frankie and arched his eyebrow. "You have common sense... most of the time."

"So, you're telling me that driving a porsche in full Human Torch mode isn't a smart decision?"

"I would say so."

"Duly noted, Captain."

"Please, call me Frankie."

*****


​

Below deck, the rest of the Fantastic Four and General Lumpkin watched the screen inside the captain's conference room. On the monitor was a video feed connected to the robotic probe thousands of feet below the sea. The robotic submarine floated through the ruins of the city underwater.

"Wait," Reed said, stretching his arm all the way across the room and tapping a spot on the screen. "What's that?"

The crewman guiding the probe guided the sub to the spot Reed had pointed at. The spotlight on the sub shinned on the object. It was a long, rectangular box stuck in the mud of the sea floor. It appeared to be metallic, and tinged with rust. Words were inscribed on the box.

Προσοχή:
Εδώ βρίσκεται η Vαμορ
προδότης Μην ανοίγετε σε καμία περίπτωση.


​

"What is that?" Lumpkin asked as he leaned in to look.

"Looks kinda like a gravestone," Ben said. "Even got some fancy words on it. Reed, Sue, can you two eggheads make those words out?"

"It looks Greek, but not. Almost like ancient Greek."

"I think it's another dialect," Reed said. He pulled a pen and notepad and began to scribble the words down. "It's close, but I think I can make a quick translation..."

"Crewman, can you attach the sub's wench to that and pull it up to the surface?'

"Yes, sir," the crewman said. The sub began to work on towing the box, wrapping its cables around the landmark. The sub bumped into it and knocked the box down to the sea floor. Suddenly, bubbles began to rise from a growing crack in the side of the box.

"What's going on?"

The box swung open and a dark figure burst out and rushed towards the sub. The video feed faltered and cut out, static crackling on the screen.

"The hell was that?"

"Something bad," Reed said as he held the notepad up. "A rough translation of the words on that tomb? 'Caution: here lies the traitor Namor. Do not open under any circumstances...'"

*****

"So, what's your story?" Johnny asked. "Everyone and their mother know about me and the Four, but how'd you end up in the Air Force, assigned to us?"

"Well, it's not that interesting, but--"

Frankie was cut off as something erupted from the ocean and launched into the air.

​

"FREEDOM!" The man cried as he hovered above the water. He had a pair of wings on each ankle, the wings flapped so rapidly they were blurs. "Where is that cur dog that imprisoned the true King of Atlantis, Namor?! I would face him, and rip his head from his body! FACE ME, IF YOU DARE!"

"Well...," Johnny said as he stood. "I guess we'll have to do a rain check on that story. Look out, I'm about to heat up. Flame on!"

Johnny combusted into flames and took off from the deck of the carrier, charging towards Namor in a flaming streak.

Mediterranean Sea
500 Miles West of Cyprus

Johnny Storm scorched the air over the Mediterranean as he flew towards the man who had just burst from the sea, ranting and raving about being the Namor, the king of Atlantis.

"I don't know what your deal is," Johnny said once he was in earshot. "But you need to-- ggkk!"

Johnny was interrupted from his monologue as Namor grabbed him by his throat. Namor stared at Johnny as he struggled against the Atlantean's powerful grip. The flames rolling off Johnny licked at Namor's hand and arm, but he appeared to be oblivious to the heat.

"What manner of sorcery is this? What happened to Atlantis? Who are you?!"

In defense to Namor's steely grip, Johnny sent out a burst of white heat from his whole body. The blinding flash caused Namor to lose his grip on the Torch. Johnny quickly recovered and blasted the flying Atlantean with a column of flames.

Namor retreated from the fire and dove into the water. Confident his foe had been beaten, Johnny dipped down closer to the water. Suddenly, a wave surged up from the sea and covered the Torch in water. With his flames out, Johnny fell into the water and was met by Namor, who knocked him back into the air with a solid blow to the stomach.

"Ahhhh!" Johnny screamed as he tumbled through the air. "Flame on!" His body attempted to light up, only to be squelched by the water covering him. As he began to fall back to the water, Namor leaped from the waves and caught him. Holding Johnny by the collar, he flew towards the aircraft carrier where the rest of the Fantastic Four had gathered with General Lumpkin and Captain Raye.

"This vessel," Namor said as he came down on the deck, dropping Johnny with a small thump. Johnny stood and looked at his sister with a defeated look as he walked to join the rest of the Four.

"Where do you sailors hail from? Are you Greeks?"

"Americans," General Lumpkin said. "This is a US Navy vessel. State your name and country of origin."

"Fool," Namor sneered. "You dare to speak that way to the King of Atlantis? Do you not recognize me, King Namor."

"A king?" Reed asked with an arched eyebrow. "Did Atlantis have a habit of imprisoning their kings and calling them traitor?"

"Choose your next words carefully," Namor said, his eyes narrowed and his fist clenched. "I am known for many things, my patience with idiots is not one of those things."

"Keep calling us names, buddy boy, and you'll see how patient we are with jerks..."

"A talking rock..." Namor said with a smirk. "How quaint."

"Why I oughta..."

Ben moved towards Namor, only to have Sue come between them.

"Calm down," Sue said, looking at both Ben and Namor. "We're all confused and unsure of what's going on. Everyone take a deep breath, relax, and then we can explain ourselves to each other. Can you do that, Ben?"

"Yeah, I guess," Ben said, looking down at his feet and toeing the deck of the ship.

"And... uh, you King Namor?"

Namor looked Sue up and down for a long second, smiling at her as they made contact.

"For a beauty like you, I would fight Alexander and all his men ten times over."

"Thanks... I guess." Sue said with a soft smile directed at the Atlantean king.
"Uh-oh," Johnny muttered softly to Reed. "That can't be good..."

 

[bkhedr]

Ancient wood creaks and groans in protest then bursts inward, showering the inside of the Hand's temple with splinters of what was once a door that had never been breached.​

The three Elders flinch in spite of themselves, their sudden fear awakening long forgotten reflexes, and they raise their arms to cover their withered reptilian faces from the natural light shining through the now open doorway even as their last few remaining guardsmen flow forward like water. Ready to meet the intruder head on.​

The Gorgon steps through the doorway with the light at his back, blood dripping from his crimson blade.​

The undead ninja warriors show no fear, no hesitation. Their devotion to their masters is rewarded with swift and final death as the Gorgon slices his way through them, severing limbs, heads and anything unfortunate enough to fall under his sword.​

The Elders' eyes widen in terror as their defenders dwindle and the Gorgon moves forward relentlessly. They would turn to run, but they are paralyzed by fear, not to mention the knowledge that they have not so much as left this chamber in centuries. They know they would not get far even if they could escape.​

As the last of the ninja fall one Elder, perhaps blinded by panic, stretches his arm out, pointing a crooked finger at the approaching Gorgon​

"Stop him!" He commands desperately with a decaying voice; but there is already no one left to obey and the only response is the slashing Grasscutter which severs the arm at the elbow.​

"AAARGH!!"​

The sound of the screaming Elder is thick with terror mixed with primordial evil. It is a chilling sound even to the Elders themselves and they huddle together and back away as the Gorgon swipes his blade sharply through the air to shake loose the wounded Elder's sticky green blood.​

Satisfied that the blade is sufficiently clean, the Gorgon sheathes his weapon, slowly, relishing the terror emanating from those whom he once called masters.​

"Wh-what is the meaning of this Gorgon?" One Elder asks, trying and failing to sound in control.​

"I have come to end you and claim my rightful place at the head of the Hand." The Gorgon replies, scowling at the Elder.​

"Rightful place?" The wounded Elder says through gritted teeth "How dare y-"​

The Elder is instantly silenced as the flashing blade of the Grasscutter severs his head cleanly. The remaining Elders recoil in horror as the head rolls to a corner and comes to a stop and the Gorgon, satisfied that he has made his point, once again shakes his sword clean and resheathes it.​

"What do you want?" One of the Elders asks timidly, his limbs and head tucked close to his body.​

"I want what I have always wanted, to serve the Beast and cleanse this world of the crime of life." The Gorgon's eyes narrowed behind his mask "I have decided that it is a mission you are unqualified to accomplish."​

"We-" The second remaining Elder began but the Gorgon silenced him with a raised palm.​

"You had millenia to burn this world and you have failed. You thought to use me to accomplish what you have so far failed to do. I intend to, but you will not be here to see it."​

"How do you propose to do that boy?" The first Elder asked, anger mixing with his fear and giving him some modicum of a backbone "This world is littered with freaks of nature, mutants, demigods. Even the mighty Gorgon, formidable though you may be, cannot stand against them all."​

The Gorgon's lips curled into a menacing smile that made the Elder shudder​

"I know about the ancient weapon that fell from the stars." The Gorgon says "And I have come to claim the heart of darkness and raise it."​

The second Elder shook his head "You are mad. The ancient weapon is inert. It will not rise. It will not move."​

"Not for you." The Gorgon growled "But I have communed with the Beast and he has shown me the way; and when I bring the ancinet weapon to life not even the most powerful freak of nature, whether he be born of mythology or the stars, will be able to stand against it."​

"You-" The Elder's eyes widened with a startling realization.​

"Yes. I have died and been reborn." The Gorgon lunged towards the Elders and wrapped a hand around each of their needle thin, scaly necks "And you will show me where the heart is."​

7000 BC

The night sky is suddenly illuminated by a bright ball of fire free falling through Earth's atmosphere.

Across the globe primitive man and animal alike turn their gaze skyward, following the fire ball. A smaller object breaks off from the ball and descends along its own arc until both finally makes contact with the Earth a significant distance apart. For most creature the two fire balls are nothing more than a curiousity. One that is almost imediately forgotten about.

But in one place, near the Western shore of ancient Japan, the falling objects' arrival is not so quickly dismissed. Standing by the water are three young men in simple black cloaks. The men are brothers and they are all strikingly handsome and powerfully built.

The youngest of them shivers with anticipation, unable to mask his excitement at the display they have just witnessed.

The brothers have been waiting for the brilliant arrival for longer than they would care to admit but none of that matters now. It has arrived, as promised, and once they claim it power and immortality will be theres.

The oldest brother says something to the others in a language long dead and ancient even in this bygone era, the language of their terrible demonic master, and the three set out across the water, wading to a small boat waiting from them off the shore.

6980 BC

The barren wastes of what will one day be known as the Gobi desert. After twenty years of searching, twenty years of fighting their way across unknown lands with sword, spear and dark sorcery; the brothers have finally found their prize.

They're still handsome features have been weathered and worn by time and the ravages of their quest, but not so much as one would expect.

Before them stands the final obstacle in their quest. An earthen wall protecting a hastily erected temple occupied by monks of the light. Monks who sense the indisputably evil nature of the object that fell from the sky twenty years ago and are determined to lay down their lives to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands.

The monks urge the three brothers to turn back and abandon their quest and the brothers charge without hesitation. The brothers will not be stopped and many of the monks will die this day. Their descendants will one day become known as the chaste.

6552 BC

A hidden city resides in an ancient valley that can not be found unless one knows how to look. It is yet another gift from he who empowered the brothers and sent them on their quest.

Once this valley was silent save for the sounds of the flora and fauna, now it buzzes with activity as men and beasts toil tirelessly in the service of their ancient undying masters.

The three elders who were once men watch their minions build their fortress and are content. On a raised pedestal between them is an alien orb of pure evil. The Heart of Darkness which fell from the sky and was taken from the Monks in the desert so long ago. It has made the brothers immortal, but they are not ageless. Their bodies have changed over the centuries, corrupted by the dark power then now control, and the once handsome men are now alien monstrosities who hide their visages under long cloaks and hoods.

One of the Elders places a crooked, reptilian claw on the heart and feels its power flow through him. Power enough to make the world quake with terror. The three brothers are no more, in their place are the Elders, the Hand of the Beast; and one day they will use the Heart to raise the ancient weapon that fell from the sky. One day they will burn the world for their unholy master.

Now

The once powerful Elder shakes with fear as he unlocks a hidden doorway revealing an otherworldy luminesce on the other side.

"There!" The last of the Elders says "Take it!"

The Gorgon shoulders past him, walking willfully towards the light. He only has to take a few steps before he reaches the source. A glowing orb built into a golden base of snakes.

http://images.wikia.com/marveldatabase/images/8/87/Heart_of_Darkness.jpg

"The Heart of Darkness" The Gorgon intones with satisfaction as he lifts the orb from its pedestal "At last"

"It will do you no good traitor." The Elder hisses "For all its power, for all the might it bestows, its ultimate promise remains unfullfilled."

"Hnh" The Gorgon made a sound not unlike a grunt "A pity that you will not live to see how wrong you are."

With that the Gorgon removeshis mask, revealing the ghostly green glow of his eyes, and takes one look at the Elder, staring directly into his slitted inhuman eyes. The Elder does not have time to scream.

 

[bkhedr]

Panic and screams fill the air as bullets whizz all around while Tony does what any self respecting playboy billionaire would do in such a situation and ducks under the table with Cindy and Amanda holding on tight and screaming at the top of their lungs.​

Tony is still trying to assess the rapidly developing situation when Amanda grabs him by the lapels of his suit.​

"Do something!! Save us!!"​

Despite the present danger, Tony can't help but give her a disbeleiving look.​

"Do I look like I'm wearing a suit of powered battle armor right now?" He asks only for her to begin tearing up​

"You know what fine." Tony says with a sigh "Just stay down."​

The panicked woman nods frantically and presses herself lower to the ground as Tony shakes his head and peers around the edge of the table.​

The gunfire has died down and from Tony can see the entire casino floor seems to be under assault simultaneously. He can see the damage done to the casino and notes that virtually everyone is staying as low and out sight as possible. The only thing he can't see is the attackers.​

He begins to scan for them when he feels something cold and hard pressed against the back of his neck.​

Tony freezes and raises his arms slightly​

"Tony Stark." He hears a disembodied voice say "You are now our prisoner."​

This actually reassures Stark. "Prisoner" means that he won't be getting shot, at least not this exact second.​

"And you are?" He asks with practiced nonchalance.​

The answer comes in the form of a shimmering display of light at several points around the casino which Stark quickly recognizes as some sort of cloaking fields being deactivated.​

He turns his head slightly, looking over his shoulder, and sees what he can only describe as a high tech bee keeper looking back at him.​

"We are the Advanced Idea Mechanics and we have come for the Iron Man armor."​

​

"Oooo-kay" Tony begins slowly, carefully choosing his words "I can't say I've ever heard of you but if you want the armor you're going to have let everyone go firs-ungh"

A smack to the back of the head from bee keeper's rifle cuts Tony off and prompts a short flurry of screams from those in the immediate area.

"This is not a negotiation Stark. You will give us the armor or all of these people will die."

"Alright, alright, ok." Tony raises his hands "Whatever you want."

In response two of the terrorists grab Tony by his jacket and haul him to his feet.

"Move." One of them says and the small party of Stark and three terrorists makes its way across the casino floor to the elevators.

As they lead him Tony subtely scans the floor. He is surprised by how at ease the attackers are, as if they know they will not be interrupted.

The elevator pings and the door opens. A jab in the back prompts Tony to cross the threshold into the elevator accompanied by his three armed escorts.

Once inside one of the three presses the elevator for the executive penthouse level. The one that Tony has bought out as his own private floor. Tony is surprised once again to find that the elevator responds and the doors slide shut.

One of his captors catches the look on his face and makes a self satisfied snort

"Don't be so shocked Stark. A.I.M. possesses the greatest scientific minds on the planet. Overriding the security protocols to get to your penthouse is mere child's play for us."

Sure thing buddy. That's why you need me to get you through the vault to the armor. Heck if you're so smart why can't you just build your own armor Tony thinks to himself

Whoever these guys are they obviously know what they're doing and have access to some pretty high tech.

Another ping lets them know that they have reached their penthouse destination and yet another jab in the back encourages Tony to step off the elevator with hands still raised.

Tony cocks his head slightly when Jarvis' synthesized voice does not greet him as expected and a quick glance in front of him reveals why.

"Great" Tony mutters

Before him stand five more A.I.M. scientists, tinkering with his electronics and stomping all over his expensive imported rugs. These guys look like they've been at it for awhile and that is both bad and good news. The bad news, obviously, is that his perimeter security is pretty poor and they've ruined his penthouse. The good news is that they couldn't get through the vault and had to change plans, grabbing him and forcing him to get them access to the armor when they couldn't get it themselves. These guys were smart, but they weren't that smart.

The realization sends Tony's brain into overdrive. If these guys haven't figured out the vault, it stands to reason they haven't figured out its fail safe mechanism either. And if that's the case then Tony already has theupper hand and might just be able to get out of this mess without endagering all the innocents in the casino.

All Tony can do is hope that the case when the would be thieves give him exactly the opening he's looking for.

"Open the vault" One of them says, gesturing towards the touch screen interface

"Ok." Tony says "Just take it easy."


Tony activates the screen and calls up a a combination lock display. His hands work slowly, methodically. He does not want to alarm the terrorists and end up knocked out, or worse, shot in the head, but as he works he's practically holding his breath. He only allows himself to breathe when, to his relief, his suspicions are confirmed.

The AIM terrorists, for all their tech and whatever they have going on under those god awful helmets, can't see what he sees, namely the line of code on the screen that only Tony can see due to the nanites coursing through his bloodstream. Its a cheap trick, nothing too impressive, but its about to pay off.

"What's taking so long?" One of the beekeepers asks impatiently and Tony has to stifle a grin before he replies

"Just one more second aaaaand-"

A series of loud booms fill the room and the AIM terrorists collapse, felled by hidden repulsors built into the ceiling and designed to incapacitate everyone not named Tony Stark when activated.

"-we're done." Tony concludes with a self satisfied smirk.

He then palms the touch screen which causes the sealed vault before him to open with a hiss of smoke revealing the armoring platform beyond.

"You guys didn't think it would be that easy did you?" Tony asks the unconscious bee keepers "I'm Tony Stark you morons. That means I'm smarter than you."

He steps onto the platform and holds his arms out at his side before giving the mental command for the armoring process to begin. In a split second Tony Stark is encased in his gold and crimson armor which looks spectacular despite the still visible scrapes and scratches from the recent battle over Washington

"Now if you'll excuse me. I've got a reeeaally pathetic excuse for a robbery slash hostage taking to foil."

 

[MST3K 4ever]

​

Lex along with Dr. Ross and a couple of other scientists begin to converge on the Canyon where they saw Bruce bolt into.

Lex says into a radio, "We've got him. Lock in on my signal and everyone surround the canyon area. Do not under any circumstance open fire without my go-ahead. Anyone firing on Banner will answer to me."

Lex cuts off the radio and Betty asks, "How do yo know that was Bruce?"

Lex replies, "Simple Dr. Ross if he were a common desert bum he would've run towards us and into the canyon trying to hide."

Betty says, "Remember what he is capable of Lex. My suggestion don't make him angry. I don't think we'll like him if he's angry."


Lex smirks and says, "Oh don't worry Dr. Ross making him angry is the least of my worries."


As a cadre of other choppers encircle the canyon Lex looks around and says through a P-A, "Dr. Banner come out with your hands up! Do not force us to fire on you. We just want to take you back to LexCorp for some further testing. No one wants to hurt you Dr. Banner. Come out quietly so we can all go home. Dr. Ross is here as well. We wouldn't dare harm you in front of her. Cone now Bruce it's time to go home"


Inside of the Canyon Bruce hears this and he begins looking around for tunnels to escape through.

There is no way I go back with Lex. I go back with him I'm on an operating table and they're dissecting me within ten minutes.

Bruce looks up and sees the copters overhead and then sees Betty through a window.

Oh No! Did she come along willingly or is she a pawn to get me to come along quietly? If I know Betty she is there trying to make sure Lex plays fair, however if I don't come along quietly who knows what kind of trouble I could make for her.

He shakes his head and begins to ascend out of the canyon with his hands over his head and then gets down on his knees as a sizable LexCorp Copter ascends to his location.

Looks like I don't have much of a choice...for now.

A squadron of LexCorp guards take Banner into custody and they all head back to LexCorp.

 

[Andy C.]

"Okay, stop me if you've heard this one," the Joker began, fighting back giggles with a bloody lip as Officer Lyle Bolton cracked his knuckles. The clown had been dragged out of his cell in the dead of night, and chained to a chair deep in the bowels of the old Arkham Mansion to be worked over the hard way. Some of the other guards, principled men like Cash, would have objected to this kind of abuse of an inmate. Cash, however, was nowhere to be found, and Bolton had been waiting for his chance to cut loose on the Joker for weeks.

"So a guy's walking by an insane asylum, and--*OOF!*" he grunted, his introduction interrupted by a punch to the gut. "Jeez, Bolton, I thought you could hit harder than that. Anyway, a guy's walking by an insane asylum, and the place is surrounded by a white picket fence. And everyone on the inside is chanting 'THIRTEEN! THIRTEEN! THIRTEEN!'"

Bolton cracked him hard against the jaw, staining his fist with a bright red smear of blood. The Joker reeled for a moment, his head lolling back and forth, before spitting out a yellowed tooth.

"Mmmm, that's more like it," he said with a hungry smile. "Anywho, the guy tries to peek over the fence to see what the crazies are chanting about, but the fence is too high for him to see over. And the chanting keeps continuing. 'THIRTEEN! THIRTEEN! THIRTEEN!'"

Bolton kicked the clown in the ribs, sending him toppling to the floor, still bound to the chair.

"Nnnngh!" he growled, before continuing. "The guy tries to look under the fence, too, but the slats go straight into the ground. And the chanting just keeps coming. 'THIRTEEN! THIRTEEN! THIRTEEN!'"

The guard rammed his boot again and again into the Joker's chest and ribs.

"He *nhn!*--he tries to look--*rrk!*--in between the slats in the fence," the clown kept going, barely acknowledging the violent kicks that threatened to cave in his sternum. "But the slats--*ngh!*--are too close together! He keeps hearing it! *rrgh* 'THIRTEEN! THIRTEEN! THIRTEEN!'"

Frustrated, Bolton drew his baton from his belt, brandishing the weapon with deadly intent. The Joker barely seemed to notice.

"Finally, the guy sees a knothole in the fence. He peeks through it.....and someone on the other side pokes his eye out with a rusty nail! The guy screams, bleeding everywhere, and the crazies start chanting 'FOURTEEN! FOURTEEN! FOURTEEN!' "

Officer Bolton scowled, then rose his baton to crush the Joker's skull in.

"That's quite enough, Bolton," came the voice to Dr. Jeremiah Arkham from the shadows on the far reaches of the room. "He's of no use if you kill him."

Bolton gave Dr. Arkham a sour look, then put his baton away and skulked in a corner.

"I'm very disappointed in your lack of progress, Joker," Dr. Arkham said, his voice calm and level, deliberately making a show of containing how furious he was. "After today's ugliness, I felt the need to punish you for your misbehaving."

"Hnnhnnhnnheeheeheeeheee...." the Joker giggled through gritted and red-stained teeth. "You'll have to refresh my memory, Doc. The way I remember it, I spent my day watching cartoons. That Pinkie Pie is such a kidder, isn't she?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Joker," he said impatiently. "The three inmates you killed today. I don't know how or when you managed to escape our monitoring, but it had to have been you."

"Only three kills while you weren't looking?" he said, an eyebrow raised. "Wow, I must be losing my touch. But humor me, Doc--how did these sad sacks bite the big one?"

"See for yourself," he said bitterly, opening a manila folder and pulling out a series of photographs.

The first was a fat man with a balding red crown line, and a bloody gash across his throat.

"Jeremy Husker, age 47, diagnosed with agoraphobia. Severed his jugular vein and carotid artery with a shard of porcelain from his toilet."

The second picture was a thin man with a dirty mustache, and a puddle of red foam oozing from his mouth.

"Brian Stillwell, age 29, interned for the murder of an infant as a result of acousticophobia--fear of noise. Chewed through his own tongue and drowned in the blood."

The third was a large black man with a shaved head, and two massive gaping wounds down the front of his face, shredded and empty sockets where his eyes should be.

"Devon Howard, age 36, convicted for multiple homicides rooted to acute Caligynephobia. Clawed his own eyes out."

The Joker looked at the grisly photographs, and began to chuckle.

"You're blaming me for these, doc?" he said. "Looks to me like they did themselves in."

"You and I both know that you're able to do these sorts of things to people," Dr. Arkham said, glaring at the bleeding clown. "You've driven several of our guards and orderlies to severe psychological damage simply by talking to them. I don't know how you did this, but it had to be you."

"Ha! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" the Joker laughed, his body shaking painfully. "Oh, this is priceless! It's not me! I didn't do it!"

Arkham scowled.

"Why, exactly, is that funny?"

"Because you don't believe me," he said, still snickering and hacking up gobs of blood. "See.....it's always funny, when someone believes a lie. The sky is falling, the wolves are coming, God loves us and wants us to be happy. But it's even better when a liar tells the truth, and people don't believe him no matter what."

Dr. Arkham glared at the Joker levelly, then turned away.

"This isn't over, Joker," he said before leaving the room, leaving the killer at the mercies of Officer Bolton.

"Oh, you have no idea," he laughed as the guard pulled out his baton again.

The Joker smiled up at Bolton, making a mental note to congratulate Dr. Crane on his progress, before Bolton brought the baton down and the world went black.

 

[Byrd Man]

​

War Journal Entry 16

The Midwestern winter gives way to the Texas spring as I head south. I take the battle down to the border, a place that has become chaotic in recent years. Drug smugglers and gun runners have turned the area around the Rio Grande into a shooting gallery. Thugs and criminals rule with iron fists. Officials are bribed and intimidated. Anyone who dares to speak up is assassinated with wanton brutality. I plan to give them a taste of their own medicine.

Last night, I had another dream about Maria and the kids. They were dead, covered in blood and bullet wounds. They were crying in pain. If their pain was from their death or from my actions, I'm not sure. Maria said I was going to hell for my sins. I woke up in a sweat, rattled and unsure of my mission. A few hours later, I scouted out my enemy and my faith in the war has been reassured. These men are evil. They need to be wiped from the face of the Earth. If I'm damned, so be it. I understand this will be my death, and I will go to Hell for my crimes... but I will personally make sure Hell is filled before I get there.

*****
​

[FONT=&quot]El Paso, Texas

[/FONT]Police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks were gathered around the smoking hole in the Texas countryside.

"What the hell's down there?" Bert Bennett, El Paso County Sheriff, asked the firemen as they walked towards them.

"Bodies," one of the firemen said. "A half dozen of them at least. Looks like fire did 'em in, but I ain't sure. Also found burnt up guns, some half burned cash, and buncha coke and weed all burnt up."

Bennett shook his head. He knew the hole in the ground was one of those tunnels that ran under the border. The drug traffickers used them to smuggle narcotics, people, cash, and guns across the border.

"Accidental fire?" Bennett asked.

"Hell no," the fireman said. "I could see pour patterns leading out the tunnel. Somebody used a ****-ton of gas and burned them all."

"Hmm," Bennett said.

He was thinking about the cartel. The Juarez Boys did murder, that's true, but not like this. If they were going to kill, they wouldn't burn the tunnel with all that cash, guns, and drugs in them. Wouldn't be the work of another cartel though, they would have taken all that stuff before they burnt it up, too.

"Pardon me, Sheriff,"a voice said from behind. Bennett turned and saw a gray-haired man in a suit standing behind him, a cigarette in the man's mouth. "I think I know who did this..."

"Do you now, Mister?"

"Special Agent," the man said, pulling out an ID and showing the sheriff. "Special Agent King Faraday."

"Who are you with? It ain't the FBI..."

"The government is who I'm with, that's all you need to know... well, that and another piece of information. Tell me, Sheriff, are you familiar with the name Frank Castle?"

*****
​

Juarez, Mexico
3 Miles South


Felipe Sanchez and Roberto Martinez were parked on the street of Vincente Guerrero Boulevard. They were inside their dark SUV, doing final checks and preparations on their guns. Sanchez had an Uzi, Martinez had an automatic shotgun.

Both men were enforces for the Juarez Cartel, and they had orders tonight to kill Judge Juan Lopez. Lopez was inside a bar on the other side of the street from where Sancez and Martinez sat. As soon as he came out, they'd follow him home and then kill him.

<What does this man, Lopez, look like?> Martinez asked in Spanish.

<He's a judge,> Sanchez said with a shrug.

<So, old and fat?>

<Pretty much.>

The two men continue to chatter and talk, all the while keeping their eyes peeled on the bar across the street. While they watched the bar, an unseen figured crept under their car and placed a square object right on the car's fuel tank.
<There he is,> Sanchez said twenty minutes later. A short, middle aged man was walking out the bar with his hands in his pocket.

Martinez was opening the door of the car when Sanchez grabbed his hand to stop him.

<No. We follow him home and do it there. Those are our orders.>

Judge Lopez's car was pulling out into the street. Sanchez waited a few seconds before cranking the SUV and pulling out into the street. Once he was in the street, a figure down the block pressed a button on the remote control in his hands.

BOOOOM!

The SUV went up in a fiery explosion, flipping the car in the air before the husk slammed to the street. The few bystanders in the street ran, all except one. One man walked towards the fire. He ignored the horrible smells of burning flesh, hair, and fat. He had gotten used to that smell a long time ago.

Martinez was still alive, screaming at the top of his lungs as the flames burned him alive. As he died, he looked through the fire and saw the figure standing there, watching him.

[FONT=&quot] "Burn in hell."[/FONT]

 

[wiegeabo]

Call it the heat of the moment. Call it riding high on a win. Call it naive foolishness. Thinking it would be easy? I don't know how I could have fooled myself so badly. I'm better than that. And I definitely know better.

So it's time to play things smart.

No more going all out. No more spreading myself to thin. No more killing myself like an idiot. The Kingpin isn't a fool. If all it took to take him down was a few nights of busting heads, the police would have done it years ago. Or his enemies. Hell, he would never have become the Kingpin in the first place. And if the Kingpin is nobody's fool, then I need to stop acting like one myself.

The way to take down the Kingpin is the same way he built himself up. Piece by piece. He didn't just become the secret king of organized crime in New York overnight. He had to step on a lot of people along the way. Make sure a number of events fell in his favor. And he would have had to orchestrate everything to stay five steps ahead of the game. So I need to start playing at his level.

"Ugh."

I close the webpage and take my sunglasses off to run my eyes. Yeah, ironic. But even a blind man con read only so many court records. Especially since I had to get in early to this research done before Foggy shows up. I'd even go for one of the desserts that Foggy call coffee.

***

Foggy and I meet with three potential clients over the course of the day. Two of them were obviously guilty. To me. And, of course, those were the two that could actually pay. Foggy's not going to be happy when we talk tomorrow.

But that's tomorrow. Tonight...tonnight it's time to let off steam. But I'm being smart about it.

Which is why I've been tailing this particular individual for the better part of an hour. Is he connected to the Kingpin? I'm not sure. But in all the court documents I was able to get through this morning, his was the only one where the word Kingpin was even mentioned. As far as leads go, it's beyond paper thin.

And yet, Bruno Mannheim is going to be my new best friend...

 

[trustyside-kick]

OOC: Previously...
​

Black Bolt
​

Over the years, if there is one thing that The Council and Black Bolt had understood about his powers, it was that his quasi-sonic screams seemed to amplify in magnitude and power in harmony with the state of his emotions. Aside from controlling the volume of his voice to dampen or increase the sheer raw power, his state of mind and emotions could play a factor as well. This was a tool very quickly mastered by the stoic Inhuman leader. That way, when he would be forced to harness the uncanny potential behind his quasi-sonic powers, he could do something to keep those around him safe as his Inhuman cousins and family often fought along his side. The same could be said when he channels those quasic-sonic particles, and emits them throughout his body to supplement his already inhuman strength and endurance.

It would be simple to guess what emotions are coursing through him, and therein coursing through his veins as he transfers the quasi-sonic power throughout his body. Gazing at Kalibak from a short distance as his forces hone in on Black Bolt, seeing that smug of a smile, the Inhuman king is determined. And said actions are surely justified, right? But to simply play devil's advocate...

One might like to think that perhaps there was no need for tossing in a sonic scream, decimating parademon forces as they swarmed around him. And that a less merciless attack would have sufficed.


Elsewhere...

Aboard the warship, Maximus calculates the different scenarios to take action with. For the strangest of reasons that even the brilliant mind of Maximus the Mad cannot comprehend, he cannot seem to contact Triton telepathically either. Going over the possibilities it is pretty obvious that Karnak will have to take over Triton's mission. The only issue is that it would require Maximus' elder brother, Blackagar, to retreat back to the main forces. But as Maximus zooms in on the battle present, he can easily tell that there will be no swaying his older brother to reason. To be honest, he quite understands though as he spots Kalibak the Cruel amongst the ranks of that Apokoliptian fleet.

"Sigh, I suppose I will have to get my hands dirty after all."

Leaving the main deck, Maximus readies himself to suit up into one of the Chorus Sentries, which will more than make up for Karnak's departure from the main forces. He starts to power up the suit, about to be dropped into the battle.

"Karnak, there seems to be an issue with the plans. My communications with Triton seems off. I cannot even reach him telepathically. Something is blocking me. I need you to either find what it is, and stop it, or sneak your way into the Throne Room and find out what happened to Triton."

"--zzt, What about the main push? We cannot allow our forces to falter!"

Arriving to the scene, Maximus makes a rough landing, luckily not stomping on any of the Inhuman forces. Speaking through the speakers of the suit, Maximus takes charge like never before. While his intentions in his attempts to usurp the throne were never noble in the past, this day will perhaps show Maximus' true potential in for the future as a prince to his people.

"MOVE IT, KARNAK. I've got this!"


Elsewhere...

Meanwhile with some of the other Royal Family as they fight Granny Goodness' Female Furies, Stompa shatters the ground and Crystal gracefully uses the wind to send her airborne. But while her counter attack is well timed, Stompa's endurance is simply too much as she takes the blow easily and swipes Crystal away. The match between Medusa and Lashina proves to be quite a stalemate, with one entangling the other as soon as the other is free, over and over again. Although Medusa is getting in a few nice licks in; hell hath no fury like a mother scorned and all that. And to Gorgon's embarrassment, Mad Harriet is giving him quite the run for his money. Her agility makes his own and his greater strength count for little.

"You women would aid those that would kidnap and torture children?"

Finally getting a good hit in as Gorgon tackles Mad Harriet to the ground, getting her pinned, a small almost roar comes out as he threatens to rip her throat out.

"You're not exactly preaching to the choir here, beast, so how about you don't try to talk yourself out of this one and defeat me!"

Lifting her knees to slip under him and kick back, Mad Harriet gets free and slashes Gorgon in the face. He sneers at her, and then looks over at Medusa and Crystal. The opponents they face...are far too well picked and coordinated. When either the Inhumans or the Apokoliptians advance, the duration of them getting the upperhand doesn't last long as the stalemate creeps in too quickly. They need to change opponents. And picture that they are fighting each other, figuring similar weaknesses would be sufficient.

"Cousins! I think we need to re-think our strategy!"

Strange, one would think that Karnak's battle intellect was finally rubbing off onto Gorgon.


Elsewhere...

Back at the most anticipated of battles, Black Bolt finds himself in a graveyard of parademons. His anger swelling, taking all of his strength to not obliterate Kalibak with one strong quasi-sonic scream, he levitates towards his opponent.

"Impressive. My entire flank destroyed in one massive attack. This will be a fight for the ages indeed! The Dark Gods will talk of this moment, honoring me for my victory. The moment that Kalibak the Cruel, crushed Black Bolt the Fool."

Kalibak chuckles until he notices that his remark made no effect on the Inhuman King as he steadily approaches with determination and death in his eyes. A look Kalibak is most certainly familiar with as he has fought many battles for the glory of Apokolips.

"Fine! On with it then! There is nothing else I'd rather be doing right now."

"Come meet your demise, you stupid mute!"


Elsewhere...

Karnak, after successfully infiltrating into the main stronghold taking the same route that Triton had been given, stops when he notices a strange sound. Like that of a shriek for help. An agonizing cry for death. Just wanting to simply...be done with life. Looking at the specs given to him, he is to go the other direction. It is where Triton was supposed to go. But as another cry echoes the hallways, Karnak cannot see how he can leave it be.

And he prays that the pleas of death are not of his brother Triton.

Entering the chambers, Karnak is stricken with horror and fear. Only the mind of a truly demented and dark soul could manifest such a thing as reality. The simplest way to describe Karnak's surroundings is that he has stumbled upon what is apparently a torture chamber. To his relief, the victim currently in pain is not his brother, but rather what looks like a Saturian.

"Please...kill me."

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Previously

Spoiler

Then
Kenya

Both Bruce Wayne and his mentor Sergi Kravinoff, better known as the legendary Kraven the Hunter, were walking through the brush of the Savanna. They each were carrying opposite ends of a pole. Hog-tied on the pole was a dead board. They walked towards the hut they had called home for the last few months.

"Our time here is ending," Kraven said nonchalantly. "I have taught you almost all that I can teach. You can track, stalk, and hunt masterfully."

"You've been a good teacher, Kraven," Bruce said.

"You have been a good pupil. Not too bad for a rich boy."

"I can make arrangements and be on my way by the end of the week."

"Good. Because tonight, we will have our final lesson. One last hunt."

"What will we be after?"

"Tonight," Kraven said with a twinkle in his eyes, "we hunt the most dangerous animal,"



Now
Old Gotham
12:05 AM


I shot out a grapnel line into the night and waited for it to catch on the nearby building. The party was barely over, and I was out into the night. This is where I belong. And, besides, Billy Russo was in need of a talking to.

Alfred found out rather quickly that Kraven was at the party on Russo's invitation. I normally made it a habit of not inviting mobster trash to my parties, but the people at the foundation were responsible for sending out invites.

The line went taught and I swung into the air, swinging by the courthouse and gliding over the rooftops of the oldest part of the city like the winged creature some criminals believed I was.

KRAK!

A rifle broke the stillness of the night. I gasped in shock as my grapnel line went slack, the rifle's bullet severing the line. I began to free-fall towards the street, tumbling and twirling through the air. I struggled with my belt and pulled out an emergency line. Desperate, I wildly aimed at a stone gargoyle on the building above me. The line caught and I jerked with the sudden stop, swinging to the right and crashing through the office building's window. I fell hard to the floor and rolled to the stop, dazed and in pain.

That's when I heard the footsteps.

"This is what you have become?" A voice said from above. I felt strong, powerful hands on my neck. I was picked up and shoved into the face of my former teacher. "You were a great hunter once," Kraven said with a sigh.
"And you used to be sane," I growled as I swung my arm at Kraven's head. He had his hand out and waiting, dropping me to the floor, countering my strike and twisting my arm behind my back in one swift move. Kraven growled and kept twisting my arm. I gritted my teeth and bared the pain.

"I could kill you now, it would be easy. For a week, I watch and wait. I see you in action. And I am disgusted by what I see?"

"Someone who can kill but doesn't?"

"No. I see a once great hunter reduced to being a fool in a costume, a fool who relies on toys and not the hunters instincts."

With his free hand, Kraven reached down and ripped my utility belt from my waist. "I am going to kill you. I was paid to kill bat, I will kill bat. But not before I shame you to the point where you will be begging me for death."

Kraven brought down the butt of his palm on my head, knocking me unconscious in one fluid motion.

******

I came to, groggy and dazed. I ran my hands across the ground and felt gravel. Through my half shut eyes, I looked up and saw my bare hands. Kraven had stripped me of my gloves and gauntlets. Standing up, I saw what else he had done. In addition to my belt and gloves, my boots and cape were gone. Just my suit and cowl remained. I was on a rooftop somewhere in the industrial area of town, factories, plants, and smokestacks cluttered up the skyline.

"Your toys are gone," Kraven's voice said from somewhere close, somewhere I couldn't see. "All there is now is the hunter and the hunted. It is time for you to die, richboy. The hunt begins now."
​

Industrial Pak
12:50 AM


I ran barefoot across the factory rooftop, gravel biting into the soles of my feet. With my running start, I hurled myself into the air over a gap between buildings. I hit the roof of the adjacent building hard, landing with a hard thump. Recovering from my fall, I stayed low to the ground and hugged the shadows. Even in the dark, I could feel his eyes upon me. It had been years since he had taught me the hunt. I had had other masters and teachers since, and I considered myself skilled. But, laying in the dark, the sense of foreboding creeping in, I knew who the real master was.

I took a deep breath in an attempt to clear my mind. Kraven was the better hunter. On that fact, there was never any doubt. But he doesn't know the city like I do. He's the master of the jungle, but the urban jungle is a different story.

Gathering myself, I began to creep across the rooftop. I prepared for an ambush after the crunch of gravel that accompanied each footfall. I made my way to the fire escape and climbed down towards the street. As I climbed down, I heard a sound. A new sound amidst all the sirens, hoking horns, and sounds of industry. A gentle sound. Like rope, tearing through the air.

Letting go of the fire escape, I fell back towards the ground as a bola struck the ladder and wrapped around the rungs. Falling towards the ground, I straightened my body and dove from two stories up into a trash dumpster. I may have hit trash, but it was all glass bottles, and plastic trays. Cut, bleeding, and in pain, I climbed out the trash and hurried into the shadows.

"That was my warm-up," Kraven's voice echoed through the alley I was seeking refuge in. Although his voice was close, there was no sign of the man. "So far, so easy. You are predictable, richboy. What will you do, now?"

Somewhere, a clock chimed one in the morning. That's when inspiration hit me like a bolt of lighting. Standing, I darted from the shadows and ran down the alley. Kraven chuckled and the sounds of his laughter followed me out the alley. Leaving the alley, I ran across the street to another building's side. Once there, I jumped on the building's fire escape and climbed up to the rooftop. A moment later, I was running as fast as I could and leaping across the gaps between buildings.

Footsteps crunched behind me, distant at first they were rapidly approaching.

"I have tracked down cheetahs, gazelles," Kraven yelled. "Do you think you can outrun me?!"

"No," I hollered back. I could feel the gentle vibrations getting stronger as I approached the edge of the rooftop. "But I know the 1:05 can outrun you!"

Jumping from the roof, I landed on the last car of a passing subway train as it tore past the building. Struggling to find a foothold, I managed to stand up and look back at Kraven as the train carried me off into the distance.

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Previously

Spoiler

Mediterranean Sea
500 Miles West of Cyprus

Johnny Storm scorched the air over the Mediterranean as he flew towards the man who had just burst from the sea, ranting and raving about being the Namor, the king of Atlantis.

"I don't know what your deal is," Johnny said once he was in earshot. "But you need to-- ggkk!"

Johnny was interrupted from his monologue as Namor grabbed him by his throat. Namor stared at Johnny as he struggled against the Atlantean's powerful grip. The flames rolling off Johnny licked at Namor's hand and arm, but he appeared to be oblivious to the heat.

"What manner of sorcery is this? What happened to Atlantis? Who are you?!"

In defense to Namor's steely grip, Johnny sent out a burst of white heat from his whole body. The blinding flash caused Namor to lose his grip on the Torch. Johnny quickly recovered and blasted the flying Atlantean with a column of flames.

Namor retreated from the fire and dove into the water. Confident his foe had been beaten, Johnny dipped down closer to the water. Suddenly, a wave surged up from the sea and covered the Torch in water. With his flames out, Johnny fell into the water and was met by Namor, who knocked him back into the air with a solid blow to the stomach.

"Ahhhh!" Johnny screamed as he tumbled through the air. "Flame on!" His body attempted to light up, only to be squelched by the water covering him. As he began to fall back to the water, Namor leaped from the waves and caught him. Holding Johnny by the collar, he flew towards the aircraft carrier where the rest of the Fantastic Four had gathered with General Lumpkin and Captain Raye.

"This vessel," Namor said as he came down on the deck, dropping Johnny with a small thump. Johnny stood and looked at his sister with a defeated look as he walked to join the rest of the Four.

"Where do you sailors hail from? Are you Greeks?"

"Americans," General Lumpkin said. "This is a US Navy vessel. State your name and country of origin."

"Fool," Namor sneered. "You dare to speak that way to the King of Atlantis? Do you not recognize me, King Namor."

"A king?" Reed asked with an arched eyebrow. "Did Atlantis have a habit of imprisoning their kings and calling them traitor?"

"Choose your next words carefully," Namor said, his eyes narrowed and his fist clenched. "I am known for many things, my patience with idiots is not one of those things."

"Keep calling us names, buddy boy, and you'll see how patient we are with jerks..."

"A talking rock..." Namor said with a smirk. "How quaint."

"Why I oughta..."

Ben moved towards Namor, only to have Sue come between them.

"Calm down," Sue said, looking at both Ben and Namor. "We're all confused and unsure of what's going on. Everyone take a deep breath, relax, and then we can explain ourselves to each other. Can you do that, Ben?"

"Yeah, I guess," Ben said, looking down at his feet and toeing the deck of the ship.

"And... uh, you King Namor?"

Namor looked Sue up and down for a long second, smiling at her as they made contact.

"For a beauty like you, I would fight Alexander and all his men ten times over."

"Thanks... I guess." Sue said with a soft smile directed at the Atlantean king.
"Uh-oh," Johnny muttered softly to Reed. "That can't be good..."

The Baxter Building
Manhattan


Namor, the self-proclaimed king of the ruins of Atlantis, was inside a water tank inside Sue Storm-Richards' lab. At a nearby console, Sue and Reed were running tests on the Atlantean.

"This is amazing," Sue said as she and Reed looked at the results on the screen.

"Incredible strength and durability, hydrokinesis, and from what we've seen, the wings on his feet give him the ability of flight."

Reed stretched his neck across the room and looked at Namor inside the tank. "Tell me, were all the Atlanteans like this?"

"No," Namor said through the speaker. "The fact that I was so powerful was the divine god's will that I serve as king."

"Right...," Reed said skeptically. He snapped his head back into place and looked over the results of a blood test they had given Namor earlier. "Susan, look at this...," he said, tapping on the notepad in his hands and highlighting a section of Namor's DNA.

"That genome sequence. It looks like... no, it can't be... a mutant?"

"Or something close to it. I think that our king may be one of the first recorded mutants in history, provided the carbon dating on the ruins of Atlantis comes through."

Later, Namor was out the tank and drying while Reed and Sue talked to him.

"So, you're not sure what destroyed Atlantis?""No, my dear," he said with a smile towards Sue. "If it was anything, it would have been the kingdom of Lemuria. They were at constant war with Atlantis. In my absence, they must have destroyed my people."

"You mention your absence. Where exactly were you? Why were you imprisoned in a tomb that marked you as a traitor?"

"Darius," Namor said with a scowl. "Darius was my top military general and he eyes for the throne. He convinced the royal council that I was plotting with Lemuria to give them ruling power over Atlantis for gold. Why I would make a foolish deal like that didn't matter, so Darius and his military were able to imprison me inside a stasis tomb and I've slept there for thousands of years since..."

The two scientist watched Namor as he walked to a window and stared out at the city. "So much time has passed since... and I am the last of my kind."

"Stretcho," Ben's voice came in through the commbadge on Reed's chest."General Lumpkin wants to speak to ya. Meet him in the conference room."

"Excuse me," Reed said as he left the room.

Once he was gone, Namor turned and smiled at Sue. "Finally," he said as he began to walk towards her. "I thought he would never leave."

"Pardon me?"

"Do not try and play shy. I've noticed how you've smiled at looked at me. I may be ancient, but I'm not blind."

"Look," Sue said, throwing up her hands and backing away "I don't know what you think I was doing, but I'm married... Reed's my husband."

"And? He does not treat you well, I can see that. He focuses on calculations and mathematics, but not the divine wonder he has in front of him. You are a princess, and by my side you can be my queen."

Namor reached out and touched Sue's chin, tilting her head back and attempting to kiss her.

"No!" She yelled, creating a forcefield between them. The field knocked Namor back.

Stumbling backwards, he scowled at her. "You would have him over me?! HIM?! Very well. I will prove my worth!"

The door leading into the lab opened up at Reed burst through. "What's going--" He was cut off by Namor, who shot through the air and tore through the side of the Baxter Building, busting out the sides and flying above the city with his hands around Reed's neck.

"Prepare to die!​

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Previously

Spoiler

War Journal Entry 16

The Midwestern winter gives way to the Texas spring as I head south. I take the battle down to the border, a place that has become chaotic in recent years. Drug smugglers and gun runners have turned the area around the Rio Grande into a shooting gallery. Thugs and criminals rule with iron fists. Officials are bribed and intimidated. Anyone who dares to speak up is assassinated with wanton brutality. I plan to give them a taste of their own medicine.

Last night, I had another dream about Maria and the kids. They were dead, covered in blood and bullet wounds. They were crying in pain. If their pain was from their death or from my actions, I'm not sure. Maria said I was going to hell for my sins. I woke up in a sweat, rattled and unsure of my mission. A few hours later, I scouted out my enemy and my faith in the war has been reassured. These men are evil. They need to be wiped from the face of the Earth. If I'm damned, so be it. I understand this will be my death, and I will go to Hell for my crimes... but I will personally make sure Hell is filled before I get there.

*****
​

[FONT=&quot;]El Paso, Texas

[/FONT]Police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks were gathered around the smoking hole in the Texas countryside.

"What the hell's down there?" Bert Bennett, El Paso County Sheriff, asked the firemen as they walked towards them.

"Bodies," one of the firemen said. "A half dozen of them at least. Looks like fire did 'em in, but I ain't sure. Also found burnt up guns, some half burned cash, and buncha coke and weed all burnt up."

Bennett shook his head. He knew the hole in the ground was one of those tunnels that ran under the border. The drug traffickers used them to smuggle narcotics, people, cash, and guns across the border.

"Accidental fire?" Bennett asked.

"Hell no," the fireman said. "I could see pour patterns leading out the tunnel. Somebody used a ****-ton of gas and burned them all."

"Hmm," Bennett said.

He was thinking about the cartel. The Juarez Boys did murder, that's true, but not like this. If they were going to kill, they wouldn't burn the tunnel with all that cash, guns, and drugs in them. Wouldn't be the work of another cartel though, they would have taken all that stuff before they burnt it up, too.

"Pardon me, Sheriff,"a voice said from behind. Bennett turned and saw a gray-haired man in a suit standing behind him, a cigarette in the man's mouth. "I think I know who did this..."

"Do you now, Mister?"

"Special Agent," the man said, pulling out an ID and showing the sheriff. "Special Agent King Faraday."

"Who are you with? It ain't the FBI..."

"The government is who I'm with, that's all you need to know... well, that and another piece of information. Tell me, Sheriff, are you familiar with the name Frank Castle?"

*****
​

Juarez, Mexico
3 Miles South


Felipe Sanchez and Roberto Martinez were parked on the street of Vincente Guerrero Boulevard. They were inside their dark SUV, doing final checks and preparations on their guns. Sanchez had an Uzi, Martinez had an automatic shotgun.

Both men were enforces for the Juarez Cartel, and they had orders tonight to kill Judge Juan Lopez. Lopez was inside a bar on the other side of the street from where Sancez and Martinez sat. As soon as he came out, they'd follow him home and then kill him.

<What does this man, Lopez, look like?> Martinez asked in Spanish.

<He's a judge,> Sanchez said with a shrug.

<So, old and fat?>

<Pretty much.>

The two men continue to chatter and talk, all the while keeping their eyes peeled on the bar across the street. While they watched the bar, an unseen figured crept under their car and placed a square object right on the car's fuel tank.
<There he is,> Sanchez said twenty minutes later. A short, middle aged man was walking out the bar with his hands in his pocket.

Martinez was opening the door of the car when Sanchez grabbed his hand to stop him.

<No. We follow him home and do it there. Those are our orders.>

Judge Lopez's car was pulling out into the street. Sanchez waited a few seconds before cranking the SUV and pulling out into the street. Once he was in the street, a figure down the block pressed a button on the remote control in his hands.

BOOOOM!

The SUV went up in a fiery explosion, flipping the car in the air before the husk slammed to the street. The few bystanders in the street ran, all except one. One man walked towards the fire. He ignored the horrible smells of burning flesh, hair, and fat. He had gotten used to that smell a long time ago.

Martinez was still alive, screaming at the top of his lungs as the flames burned him alive. As he died, he looked through the fire and saw the figure standing there, watching him.

[FONT=&quot;] "Burn in hell."[/FONT]

El Paso County Sheriff's Office

El Paso County Sheriff Bert Bennett was behind his desk, thumbing through the file the government man had just given him. It was filled with police incident reports and grisly crime scene photos from Gotham to Hub City and places in between. All the dead people had one thing in common: they were criminals, all of them had rap sheets a mile long.

"You telling me all these dead folks, this is the work of one man?" He asked the special agent sitting across the desk from him.

"One man," King Faraday said, handing Bennett another file. This one was a military personnel file, heavily redacted in places. "One man who can operate as an army.

"First Sergeant Francis Castle," Bennett said under his breath. "Leatherneck, huh? Dealt with a few of those in 'Nam. Didn't think they were capable of doing damage like this."

"Castle was Marine special forces. He's more than capable of this."

"What makes you so sure it's him you're looking for anyway? All this violence is well spread out. He could be anywhere in the country."

"Rash of murders across the border recently. All Juarez Cartel men, all died in public ways. With the violence in Juarez and El Paso, it makes sense. He goes wherever it's the worse."

"He sure as **** picked the right place. So, if I may ask, what does a spook got to do with this?"

"Classified."

"Right," Bennett said with a chortle. "If I may do my own detective work, Mister Faraday. You're here for one of two reasons: One, you're looking to recruit this Castle for wetwork. Any fella who can do this kind of ****ed up **** would be high on the government's pull list. Two, you got some kind of asset inside the cartel and you gotta keep them alive. So, how close am I?"

Faraday stood and looked down at Bennett.

"Piece of advice before I go. Don't underestimate Castle, Sheriff. Everyone who has has died. Painfully."

*****
​

Eladio Compound
Outskirts of Juarez


Don Diego Eladio sat on the back patio of his sprawling mansion, watching the sun set in the west. There were two bodyguards flanking both his left and his right. In the backyard a hundred feet away, three more bodyguards were on sentry duty.

<Don Eladio,> a balding man said in Spanish as he outside the house.

<What is it, Ramon?>

<It's Felipe and Roberto, sir. They're...>

Eladio turned to stare at Ramon. <What?>

<Dead, sir. They were killed last night by someone. They got to them before they could kill the judge.>

Eladio stood up out of his chair and walked away from Ramon. He pulled a cigar from his shirt pocket and lit up. <Do you know who killed them?>

<We think. Or, our source thinks so. They passed this on to us,> Ramon said. He held up a manilla folder and walked over to place it in Eladio's hands.

"Frank Castle," Eladio said in English, looking over the file. He turned to his two closest bodyguards and held up a picture of Frank Castle in his Marine dress uniform. <Go to town, find out who this man is. Find out where he is. Kill him.>

The two bodyguards nodded and turned to leave.

*****


​

Loma Blanca
24 Miles South of Juarez

Manuel Ortega checked his watch and shook his head. Their connection was late. Manuel and six of his men were all crammed into two SVUs out in the middle of desert. Every other week, Manuel oversaw the exchange of product between the Sinaloa and Juarez Cartels. Two hundred pounds of pot and a hundred pounds of coke. The Sinaloa Cartel had grow the weed and coke in their fields and cut it in their superlabs. The Juarez Cartel was responsible for the last leg of the journey in Mexico. They took it over the border into America where it was dispersed all over the country. Every other week, the exchange went like clockwork... but not today.

<Look,> one of Manuel's men said from the backseat of the car. Dust was being kicked up off in the distance by three shapeless blobs. The blobs came into focus. A white cargo truck was riding across the desert, two SUVs flanking it. The truck and two cars came to a stop close to Manuel's cars. Waving his hand, Manuel and his men exited their vehicles.

<What was the hold up?> He asked the truck driver once the man got out the cab.

<I apologize, sir, but we had car trouble.>

<I see,> Manuel said with a nod. The truck driver led Manuel and his men to the back of the truck. The driver opened the truck and showed them the plastic containers of paint thinner. Inside each tub, packaged in airsealed plastic wrap, was packages of marijuana and cocaine.

<It's all there,> the driver said nervously.

<I trust you,> Manuel said. <I trust you to be afraid of what will happen if you did steal from us.>

<Yes,> the driver nodded. <I didn't steal. Everything is there.>

While Manuel and his men inspected the shipment, they were being watched on a nearby ridge. Laying on his stomach, he watched the Mexican gangsters go about their business in the evening sun. He stood up and squatted on his haunches, grabbing the rocket launcher at his side.

Loading up a missile, he aimed for the big white truck and disengaged the launcher's safety.

"Fire in the hole," Frank whispered. He pressed the trigger and the rocket shoot out of the tube, tearing through the air and striking the cargo truck dead center.

BOOOM!

The paint thinner acted as an accelerant, engulfing the entire area in flames. Most of the thugs died in the fire, but a few were left alive. Severely burned and clinging to life, but alive. Frank planed to remedy that.

Putting the rocket launcher down, Frank picked up his shotgun and started down the ridge towards the fiery wreckage. One of the burned men moaned and crawled across the dirt. He reached his hand out and came down on a shoe. A black combat boot. Looking up, the man saw Frank looming over him shotgun in his hand. Frank racked a shell into the chamber and aimed for the man's head...

 

[Carnage27]

Former Checkmate Headquarters
Washington DC

A blast of supersonic sound slams into the wall as I quickly duck back behind cover. The two of them have me cornered, and there's no easy way out of this.

I toss my shield against the other side of the wall and it ricochets off towards one of my attackers, and I roll from behind the cover and head towards the other. The shield is blasted away by another scream from my opponent, but the scream partially deflects, knocking them through the air.

I reach the other, who throws an expertly aimed punch at my midsection. It lands, but I manage to absorb most of the blow with a well timed block. The two of us square off, and I move before he does, attempting to catch him off guard. I swing with my left, which is easily caught by him, and he responds with an uppercut.

Luckily, my first punch was a feint. I spin away from his strike, which sends him stumbling off guard. He winds around with a backwards strike with his elbow, but I duck it easily and use his momentum, putting my hip into his and slamming him over into the ground.

"You still got it, old man," Wildcat smiles up at me.

"Who are you calling old?" I offer my hand and help him up. "I've been frozen for 70 years. You've been living this whole time."

"No way do you get a break on that technicality," he laughs.

"You two done flirting?" Black Canary asks, tossing me my shield. "I thought this was a training exercise, not junior prom."

"Oh lighten up, kid," Ted responds.

"You're improving in the team dynamic," I nod to her. She's impressed me so far. Ted's done a good job preparing her for this kind of life, but she's obviously not used to dealing with other super powered enemies. It's something we'll have to work on since she's part of our team, but I have faith she'll catch on. "But you need to be ready for anything. You're used to normal thugs and criminals. We'll be dealing with more than that out there."

"I know," the young crimefighter nods. "I am trying."

"And you're improving," I reassure her by putting a hand on her shoulder. I'm not used to being the supportive type. I had Bucky back during the war...but he was more of a soldier I was at times. I trained soldiers in groups. But this...this is different. But Dinah has taken to me, and is eager to learn.

Bucky. I've thought of him a lot since the three of us have began working as a unit. He was my last confidant. I had Ted and the other Invaders during the war, but Bucky was the one I confided in. Now, with Ted and Dinah, I have a new close knit group.

The rest of the Ultimates have gone their separate ways until we're needed again, but these two have stayed to help Fury and I set up our new agency.

"So, we don't have a mission, how bout a drink?"

"Unfortunately, Wildcat, you do."

Fury comes from nowhere, as he usually does. He's been gone for a while, not sure where. But apparently he's got something for us.

"Something's come up. Let's get to the situation room for briefing."
​

 

[trustyside-kick]

Black Bolt

Kalibak the Cruel earned his namesake for it sticks true in every action he commits. He is a vicious warrior, fighting dirty as he clashes with the previously stoic Inhuman Ruler. They trade blows, and each time one of them misses and shatters part of the ground, the very ground shakes. Each time Kalibak hurls his blunt mace hammer and misses, it shatters nearby structures with ease.

However while Kalibak has more than earned his namesake...the same could be said about Black Bolt and the Inhuman Throne. Yes, it is his birthright. Yes, he was the elder son. But he has more than earned the respect of his people as he has earned their love and support. The rocky moments aside like whenever Maximus would try to usurp him, Blackagar Boltagon has been a far better King than perhaps even he realizes. He has the qualities a King needs. Although, one of said qualities of a good King is restraint. That is perhaps the one thing the once stoic Inhuman has not embraced. Let us hope that it is not his downfall and that he is successful in his quest to save his child. The Quintessence urged Black Bolt to look to reason of the greater situation, and decreed that no matter the scenario, this entire ordeal can only end badly for him.

​

Elsewhere...

Rather than carrying out the Saturian's wishes, Karnak unstraps the alien from the torture chair within the ungodly chamber. He helps him up, and very slowly helps him walk towards the exit. But the alien grunts, shaking his head, and pointing the other direction.

"What? Further into the chamber? You must be serious about your deathwish."

"There are others...like me. Telepaths. We must liberate them as well."

Karnak looks down at the schematics given to him once again, looking at how far they are from the throne room where his brother suddenly was cut off from communication. As the Saturian winces in pain from what looks like internal bleeding by how he clutches at his ribs, Karnak prays Triton can hold on a bit longer. He choose to radio Maximus about the updated situation.

"Maximus, you are not going to believe what I'm going to tell you...but right now I'm with a wounded Saturian, who was brutally tortured in this horrid chamber. He tells me that there are more further within."

"--zzt, What? A Saturian? On Apokolips? Why in the world would--"

"Wait, hold on."

The Saturian gestures to stop for a brief moment to catch some breath as the short distance was already too much on his body. Karnak lets him down gently on the ground, sets his comm to speaker, kneeling to the alien.

"I am...Jemm. I was abducted while I was venturing the cosmos, chasing a villain. That was when I found myself in an ambush, and had found out that the villain was paid to do so. I was outnumbered and outpowered. The Dark Lord of Apokolips...has been...harvesting telepaths."

"--zzt, did he say their targets has been telepaths? Then why in the hell would they take Ahura? When he was born, it was clear he had inherited Blackagar's powers."

"No...I know of the boy you speak of. I...tried to protect the boy. When it was his turn to...I opted that my abilities far surpassed his. And it is true that my own telepathy is far greater...but with the boy Ahura there is more. A deadly, powerful ability...hidden within. Largely dormant. An evil eye."

Maximus is speechless. The boy's powers had somehow evolved since birth. A rare trait in the Inhuman race. Not evolution itself...but the way his evolved into a seemingly entirely different way. Uncanny.

"The boy...where is Ahura now? Is he further down these chambers?"

"...No. There was one who saw past my facade. Hence for my recent episode of torture at the hands known as Desaad. Granny Goodness...she has him now. And they are putting him towards The Test."

"--zzt, The Test? What the hell is The Test?"


Elsewhere...

From the outside, it looks like the Inhumans are clearly in the...well, the clear. While Maximus had preferred to orchestrate everything from aboard the warship, luckily the difference in efficiency is rather small. The real game changers would be the Chorus Sentries. Had Black Bolt not swallowed his pride, had he not come to ask his insane brother for help...they might not have made it this far. A true achievement, these machines of Maximus' are. Their cleverly picked name ringing true. In this great battle, they are like a choir of angels of death, decimating wave after wave of Parademons.

Elsewhere...

Speaking of the battle against Granny Goodness' prized warriors, Crystal quickly caught onto what Gorgon. Stompa had cornered Crystal and was about to deliver a devasting blow when Gorgon charged at her. Naturally as Mad Harriet went to attack Gorgon from behind, Crystal had used the ground beneath her feet to reach up and entrap her. Gorgon looks back, and smirks.

"Ha! You crazy little wench! How do you like tha--OOF!"

And then Stompa delivers a hard jab to the face as Gorgon was distracted. But there is no reason to fret. With Mad Harriet entombed by rock, Gorgon kicks her square in the face to knock her out, and Crystal creates a barrier of wind around them as Stompa attempts to strike. As as the barrier is of course made of wind controlled by the will of Crystal, Gorgon easily counters with a hook to Stompa's jaw as the barrier opens.

With Stompa occupied, Crystal is able to aid her older sister Medusa in her fight with Lashina. Manipulating the oxygen particles in the air, Crystal's fists burst with flames and as Medusa and Lashina have entangled each other in a futile of a strike, Cyrstal strikes Lashina's backside. With the angered Fury now seeking revenge towards Crystal as she unleashes a grappling attack Medusa strikes. Clinging to Lashina's feet and arms, Medusa lifts her up in the air, Crystal uplifts herself upon a rock pedestal, wind spiraling around her fist as she aims a prepared attack at Lashina's head.

"I think it would be wise to surrender now, Fury."

An uppercut to the jaw, and Gorgon has Stompa defeated.


Elsewhere...

The Dark Lord of Apokolips is not carved from the same stone as your typical villain. Not even great conquerors and other tyrants of the cosmos are built the same way. He does not waste his time with that which does not prove to be worth it. It is the only reason that Triton of the Inhuman Royal Family still lives. True, with the powerful Omega Beams Darkseid saw fit to dispose of Triton's small group of infiltrators...but they were of even less use than Triton himself.

Darkseid has different plans in store for him.

"You are the cousin to the one known as Black Bolt, are you not?"

"I--I am."

"And...all of this...you would give your life for the life of his son. My intelligence had revealed that even your precious Inhuman Council saw fit to seclude the child from your people, and yet suddenly the King cares?"

"We're a family. And whatever The Council had done, I'm sure it had been done at the boy's best interests."

"Best interests...yes...that is what this is all about after all. My best interests. For eons, I had sought after a powerful thing, creature. I will not waste the time explaining what it truly is, for few minds can comprehend...but it is known as the Anti-Life Equation. But it would be something beyond the Source Wall simply...will not allow me to obtain it. Not to say that I have abandoned my quest...but I have found another worthy of my attention."

"And how is it that such a gaze of grandeur had fallen onto a child?"

"It hasn't. I do not even know if the boy will be of use to me. Only The Test will give us that answer."


Elsewhere...

Long has it been since Kalibak had faced a foe and worthy and versatile as the Inhuman King known as Black Bolt. In all honestly, he has worn a smile of glee the entire time. Basting in the raw emotions clearly visible in the formerly stoic King, everything is going perfectly as planned. The Quintessence are fools. So Omnipotent, and yet they saw Kalibak's actions exactly as Darkseid had hoped they would so that no aid would come to Black Bolt when the inevitable struggle to get Ahura back would commence.

"If you would like to know where we have taken your little brat, Blackagar...he is now in the unloving care of our great Granny Goodness. You wish to save your boy? He is probably already dead! Surely if he has not passed The Test by now, he is of no more use to my father."

No, Black Bolt tells himself. It's not true. Ahura still lives. He just...knows it. Kalibak strikes but Blackagar quickly evades and counters.

"And if he does pass the test, he will wish he were dead!"

That's not going to happen. Blackagar won't allow it. He can't. But the thought of it happening makes the Inhuman King falter, and get knocked back by Kalibak's harsh blow.

"All that he will have left to remember you by, is your vocal chords...preserved in a jar for my amusement after I rip them from your throat. As he screams cries of anguish, should he choose not to obey my father's wishes, he will be whipped and burned, until tortured into submission by the dreadful Desaad. If he passes The Test, he will be our most useful slave."

No. That. Will. Not. Happen. But as Blackagar tries to absorb the strength of Kalibak's kick, his feet are not planted enough and gets knocked over. The son of Darkseid plants his foot atop Black Bolt's chest as the hero lies on his back, mocking him.

"Hahaha! I'm make him wash my feet!"

No. Blackbolt is able to get Kalibak off balance, and roll backward, away from his foe. Grinning, the villain charges as Black Bolt, hammer-mace raised high.

"The only thing he will live for, is what he will one day die for! For Darkseid! DIE FOR DARKSEID! DIE FOR DARKSEID!! DIE FOR--"

With one loud, heart-wrenching, point-blank ranged, quasi-sonic scream...Kalibak the Cruel is no more. Utterly obliterated leaving almost nothing of his former self left as the battlefield is sprayed with his blood and guts. His Apokoliptian hammer-mace...that is all that is left of the son of Darkseid.
​

 

[MST3K 4ever]

​

Bruce sits in a different kind of isolation cell this time. It is as spartan as the previous cell but this time it is an underground bunker at LexCorp. With extra security measures in place to keep Bruce in check, but how his alter-ego will react to these new measures might be a different story.

Lex looks at Bruce through a control room window and says, "Tell me Bruce what did it feel like to have that kind of power? To battle Superman toe to toe. To lift a car like it was styrofoam."

Bruce shakes his head and says, "Lex like I told you on the way back I don't remember."

Lex nods and says, "Well then let me refresh your memory."

He cuts on a monitor in Banner's cell and shows him footage of his transformation, his rampage through Metropolis, and his battle with Superman.

Bruce watches in horror and feels a great deal of guilt and shame.

With tears in his eyes he asks, "Was anyone hurt? Or Killed?"

Lex replies, "No, a couple of officers were shaken and needed clean pants but otherwise no The Hulk didn't harm anyone."

Bruce says, "Thank God. Where's Betty?"

Lex replies, "She's around she'll be stopping in later. She is right now filing a report with her father and Checkmate. Bruce I realize that this is a lot to take in but know this. I will do everything I can to help you come to grips with being The Hulk and working with it."

Bruce shakes his head and says, "No Lex. I said I was done with you and I meant it. I want to be rid of The Hulk."

Lex says, "Bruce you have a unique opportunity to make a difference in so many areas. You have a gift you need to use it."

Bruce replies, "More like you need to exploit it Lex."

Lex says, "You wound me Bruce. At first I was thinking that but like all great men I see a much larger picture now. With your unique body chemistry do you have any idea how many cures could be in your bloodstream alone. Or how The Hulk can make a difference in the war on crime? You can make a difference like no one else before or since Bruce."

Bruce says, "That's a lot to think about. I need time and I need to see Betty alone."

Lex says, "Fair enough I'll make arrangements for now though try to rest up."

Lex cuts off the mic and Mercy asks, "How long before you do what you know you have to do?"

Lex shakes his head and replies, "Sooner than later I'm afraid, but for now I'll put it off for as long as I can."