One Earth: The Marvel/DC RPG

[Byrd Man]

&

Hyperspace

The Fantastic Four's spacecraft shot through the void of space at unbelievable speeds. Inside the ship, Ben sat in the pilot's seat and monitored the ship's progress towards their objective. Reed was in the co-pilot chair, watching with him.

"In five minutes, we should be at our destination."

"So, we're just going in blind? I mean, fer all we know this distress signal is a buncha bologna."

"That it may be, Ben," Reed said, stretching his right arm across the room to press a button. "But it's a signal coming from a section of space humanity has yet to chart. What's the worse that could possibly happen?"

"Lemme think... we could be shot down and crash land on a planet filled with an army of alien soldiers, be forced to fight in a gladiator arena by an galactic warlord until Superman shows up, saves our butts, and helps us kick said warlord and his hordes to hell and back."

"That won't happen," Reed said, standing up and walking towards the back of the ship. "We're too far away from Earth for Superman to show up."

He walked to the middle of the ship, where he had designed living quarters for longer space missions. Sue and Thor were sitting side by side, talking to each other while Johnny napped on a couch. Flash and Hercules were seated across from each other, Flash had his hands on top of Hercules' open palms. Anytime Hercules made a move to slap Flash's hands, he easily avoided the slap.

"Infernal trickster," Hercules growled. "You move like Mercury."

"Mercury, eh?" Flash asked with a smirk. Hercules made another move, and Flash darted his hands out the way in time. "Guess what? I'm faster."

"Sorry to interrupt, uhh whatever that is... but we're almost there."

"Still no idea what's there?" Sue asked, looking up at Reed.

"Nope. We're flying in blind."

"Where ever we're going," Johnny said, sitting up from the couch. "It better be filled with hot, grateful alien babes."

"I agree with the lad. The comelier the wenches, the better!"

"Either way, we better get to the cockpit and strap in."

A few minutes later, the seven heroes were all strapped in their seats as Reed prepared to pull the ship out of transluminal speed.

"Here we go. Arriving at the location in three, two, one..."

The darkness of faster than light travel disappeared, and the spaceship shook as it appeared in space high above an alien world.

"Holy crap!"

"Odin's Raven!"

"By the beard of Zeus!"

"Sweet Lucy McGillicuddy!"

Ben gripped the control yoke of the ship, sending the craft twirling through space to avoid the debris and fighting ships. "Good going, Egghead," Ben growled, doing a barrel roll to dodge an oncoming space frigate. "Ya warped us into the middle of a frickin' space battle!"

"Less talking, more flying," Reed said, turning to look back at the rest of the group. "Scans are detecting that the fight here in space is only a part of the conflict. A full on invasion is going on down at the surface. I can beam the rest of you down there to fight while Ben and I stay up here and fight."

"Whatever!" Flash said, clawing at his harness. "Just get me off this damn ship!"

"Yeah," Johnny said, covering his mouth. "I think... I think I'm gonna hurl."
"How can you fight? I thought you didn't have any weapons on the ship?" Sue asked.

"After our run-in with Warworld, I installed a few defensive and offensive measures. We'll be alright."

"Speak for yerself!" Ben spat, weaving the ship through the battle.

Reed turned back to his panel and calculated how to teleport the rest of the group. A few moments later, he had the trajectory and math calculated, the teleporter ready to go.

"Alright. According to the data here, this will place the five of you right in the middle of the ongoing invasion. Be careful."

In a flash of blue light, the five heroes disappeared from their seats.
​

 

[Optikal]

​

“I've been many men. I've seen and done things that would leave others ****ting their pants. I've been both hero and villain. I've rubbed shoulders with the rich and the poor. I have been many men and yet I am nothing.”

“An interesting conclusion, Mr Spector. Though however poetic you may try to justify your life, we’re not here to justify your actions but to assess your current mental state. The pills. Your reliance on them. You are addicted Marc. And we need to find a way to break the addiction. So I ask you once more, who or what do you believe you are?”

The Home of Steven Grant
Spring Valley
New York
NOW.​

It was a question he often had to ask, and that was often asked of him. From Marlene to Crawley, they all had those words hidden just at the back of their gaze. Marc Spector had dealt with it for many years yet still had no answers.

He had been so many things, from the down and out cab driver, Jake Lockley, to the playboy millionaire, Steven Grant, A lover. A soldier. A friend. But those names, those people, had become such a part of his psyche that they had melded together and changed him, infected his mind and taken over his life. Occasionally there was the voice, the one of his Saviour, there to reassure him of the answer. But Marc was doubtful. Was he an avatar for a higher power? Was he a warrior of the light? Or was he simply insane?

Cold blue eyes stared into their own reflections within the mirror. Jaw clenched and beads of water fell from sopping wet hair, left to grow out messy and unkempt. The doctor had concluded that he needed more help, a specialist in tortured minds of war vets. Someone to help the cripples deal with being broken. He’d also refused him the pills or a prescription for more. Spector knew he would have to look elsewhere for them. On his cheek a deep gash leaked blood that ran down through three day old stubble before dripping into the porcelain bowl, fingers gripping the rim to steady him. In the other hand, a razor, slick with claret was held in a shaking hand.

Looking away from the mirror, he grabbed a towel and dried his face, wiping away the trickle of blood from his cheek. Leaving the razor in the sink, he rolled the wheelchair he was sat in out of the bathroom and into the main hall of the mansion. Huge curtains were drawn across the windows, bathing the whole place in gloom. In the centre of the room there still stood a statue, tall and imposing, a huge dust sheet covering it. Spector wheeled himself over and pulled at the sheet. His hands trembled even worse than before and instinctively he reached for his pocket, drawing forth the little rattling tub of painkillers and fumbled clumsily at the lid, trembling fingers refusing to work correctly. Spector cursed angrily as they spilled form his grasp and rolled to a stop at the feet of the statue.

The pills had become routine from the first moments of waking from the coma so long ago. They drowned out the roar of memories, caressed the agony of what had been taken from him. He had gone after Bushman with vengeance in his heart. He had been urged on by that voice in his head and filled with the belief that he was doing something good and just. But it had all been a set-up. He was sloppy and it had cost him. Bushman had beaten him down, breaking bones, tearing flesh and muscle and destroyed his knees with two well-placed bullets. On some nights, when he could no longer fight and sleep took him, he would wake, covered in cold sweat and the sensation of the cold steel at his throat.

In the end it had been Marlene that had come along and saved him. Not a God, or a hero, or anything so fantastic. It was the concern of the woman that loved him and the assistance of two old friends that she had contacted to track him and keep him safe. Frenchie and Crawley, his old squad-mates, doing what they had done so often in so many different wars.

Saving his life.

But the gift of life had cost him. Left in a coma for over a month, it was only when he awoke that he truly understood the severity of what Raoul had done to him. Both knees were shot out and the damage meant months and months of physical therapy to begin the healing process. But worse than all of that, the voice in his head, the guiding light that had justified his every action had fallen silent. And so he felt alone, more alone than he had ever done.

Depression set in, anger at the world flowed from him like someone had ripped the tap from the fount of the rage and torture that had wracked his broken body. Over time, his companions were pushed away. Jean-Paul, Bertrand, even Marlene. And now he was truly alone.

A broken man without a place or a purpose.

Spector spat an angry curse to himself and reached down for the sweet release that the medication offered. They were just out of reach but he was determined to get them. He needed them, couldn’t live without them….

His body screamed in pure white hot agony as he fell from the chair, landing in a hard heap. The chair fell too, landing on the back of his legs. “BASTARD! ****ING GOD DAMN BASTARD!” He roared.

He was useless.

Beyond useless.

A natural born fighter who could no longer fight. Was this his curse? For the things he done? The people he had killed and the wars he had used as his own little playground? Spector reached up and tried to raise himself from the floor. He would give anything for a second chance. There wasn’t a price he wouldn’t be willing to pay for just one more chance to put right the wrongs and grasp at life again. His fist curled around the sheet covering the statue and this time it fell free, fluttering to the ground. A thin shaft of moonlight cut through the drawn curtains and rested upon the fallen, broken man on the floor.

Spector gazed up into the grisly blank visage before resting his gaze upon the silver metal plate at the foot of the statue, reading the words embellished upon it.

KHONSHU
MOON GOD​

Beyond the words he found himself gazing into his own pale reflection glaring back from the polished silver.

“Who are you?” He growled to himself.

 

[Carnage27]

Rann

"So how is the defense going around the planet?" I ask Adam Strange, who is apparently the champion of this planet. The waves of attackers have been breaking on our defensive position here, but they're bound to overrun us eventually.

"Not as well as it's going here," he responds, pointing at a group of soldiers to bolster the defenses on the walls. "This is our capital and we have the biggest military strength here. But their numbers are too large. They'll eventually break our lines."

"We have the Shi'ar military on their way," Sinestro responds. "They were hit by what we assume was the same force, so we can't be sure how strong they'll be when they get here or how long it will take them. And I would assume we will have more Lanterns joining shortly."

"All the help we can get is great, but I fear that won't be enough."

"It will have to be. We're not going to let your planet fall as well," Sinestro says.

And as he does, a bright flash of light appears near us, and we turn to find six newcomers standing in our midst.

"Holy crap! The Fantastic Four! And Thor! Boy am I glad to see you guys!" I smile at the new heroes come to aid our battle.

**********

In the space above Rann, a squadron of twenty of the Green Lantern Corps appear, and begin engaging the invading space fleet, ready to do what it takes to defend the innocents of the universe.

**********

In a ship floating on the edge of the battle, invisible to its combatants, two beings watch feeds from the space battle and the ground invasion. As the Green Lanterns, Fantastic Four, Thor, and Hercules show up, one of them shifts uncomfortably.

"Shall I enter the fray?"

"No. Not yet. I want to see how they handle themselves," the calm one says, sitting back in his throne with a smile.
​

 

[Byrd Man]

"It will have to be. We're not going to let your planet fall as well," Sinestro says.

And as he does, a bright flash of light appears near us, and we turn to find six newcomers standing in our midst.

"Holy crap! The Fantastic Four! And Thor! Boy am I glad to see you guys!" I smile at the new heroes come to aid our battle.

​

The group of heroes leaped into action, Sue creating an invisible construct to lash out at an approaching group of alien attackers. The construct knocked the creatures back into the air away from them. "We got the distress signal and came as soon as we could. What's the situation, and who are you two?"

"Rest easy, Susan. These men wear the sigil of the Green Lantern Corps," Thor said with a nod at the two men. "I have fought alongside them, these two to be precise. They are noble warriors, indeed."

"Wait...," Flash said with a scowl. He looked at the human Green Lantern with confusion. "Green Lantern? Hal?"

"Incoming!" Johnny shouted, pointing upwards as a fiery ball of plasma rocketed towards their location.

*****

Above the surface of Rann, Ben navigated the ship through the battle while Reed sat in the co-pilot's seat, controlling the weapons on the rocket's nose.

"You remember when you talked me into going to space that one time?" Ben growled, pulling up and scrapping along the hull of a giant battlecruiser. "Remind me to ring yer neck for it later! That is, if we live to see a later"

"Please," Reed said with a smile, firing two energy bolts at the battlecruiser as they passed under it. "A giant space battle light years away from Earth. Is there anywhere else you want to be?"

On Reed's radar display, the screen light up with nearly two dozen new energy signatures. "Something new is in the fight now. Twenty of them, by my count. Small, smaller than those fighters you tagged a few minutes ago. Almost the size of--"

"People."

"Yes, exactly, how did you--" Reed stopped as he looked up from the display. Outside the window, a pack of twenty beings raced over the top of their ship. They flew in a tight, compact formation. Each of them appeared to be some sort of different breed of alien, but all of them wore similar uniforms and had green auras surrounding their bodies.

"Wow," Reed said, flabbergasted as he watched them race across the battlefield, stopping warships in their place with beams of energy, pushing aside debris with emerald constructs, fighting off the invaders with energy weapons that took strange shapes. "What in the world are they?"

"I dunno. But like you said, egghead, ain't no place I'd rather be."
​

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Lex & Glenn look at Starnes and Betty Ross as they enter into the control room.

He says with a smile, "It's very fortunate that you happened to be here cleaning out your desk Dr. Ross so that you can assist us in this operation, and so coincidental that everyone else was busy."

Lex says to Starnes, "I don't believe in coincidences Dr. Starnes. I have no idea what you're up to, but know this after this operation is over your career as over as well."

Glenn says to Betty, "And don't think I've forgotten what you and Daddy did to me. When this is over both of you will regret ever crossing me."

Betty looks at Glenn and says, "Yawn, and I'm guessing you're gonna get my little dog too."

Lex says, "All-right enough let's get this over with. The patient is going to need 3 treatements once they're over in theory his memory should be restored. Let's begin."

Starnes sits at a computer and begins entering in lines of computer code as Betty opens the blinds to the operating theater.

Just then the alarms begin sounding and Lex says, "Talk to me doctors."

Starnes says, "His mind is in a very suggestive state. One that it isn't used to and his body is starting to show signs of reactions."

Starnes grabs a syringe and fills it with a solution along with an alcohol wipe. He says, "This should stabilize him, but I have to stay in here to monitor him. Dr. Ross give this to him."

Glenn says, "I can give it to him."

Ross says, "Sure why not run the risk of getting it in the wrong spot and killing. Go for it Glenn."

She looks at Luthor and says, "I don't have a badge to get in there and only Starnes does and he has the proper door code too."

Lex looks at Starnes and says, "Take her down there and get back in here."

They leave the control room and Starnes says to Betty, "He's fine I put in a computer program to fake his vitals going heywire. This is just saline it'll be fine. With his mind such a suggestive state you'll have enough time to say maybe a sentence or two that'll help his sub-conscious recover on it's own. The more recent the better. One treatment won't hurt him but if he doesn't remember anythng by number three he'll be lost forever."

They reach the door and Starnes opens it and says "You got 60 seconds and the clock is ticking."

He leaves and Betty heads into the room.

As she administers the shot she says, "Bruce, Stabob, the cave, Betty and the biker gang, I love you."

She leaves and re-enters the control room and Starnes says, "Thank you Dr. Ross. His vitals are stable and we are ready to proceed."

Lex nods and says, "Begin."

Starnes begins enter computer code and Betty is monitoring the vitals.

The monitors shows many differing "memories." Just then they notice his vitals are elevating rapidly and Starnes says, "Uh-oh he's living alone in his sub-conscious anymore. Which means..."

Glenn says, "There are gamma protocols in place even if Mr. Green shows up."

Starnes taps Betty on the foot gently. Betty looks over at Starnes and sees him smile.

Betty exhales deeply.

Never thought I'd be happy for him to show up.

Suddenly Bruce opens his eyes and they are a deep green. His clothes begin to rip and The Hulk appears!

He bolts up from the table and yells, "ROAAAARR! HULK SMASH! HULK BE FREE!"

Lex looks at Talbot and says, "You said the Gamma Protocols were in place!"

Talbot says, "They were they..."

They look at Ross and Starnes and Lex says, "You two did this!"

Betty says, "Right now I'd be worried about The Hulk smashing LexCorp into dust!"

The Hulk begins breaking up the operating theater and yelling!

He looks at the 4 in the control room and roars breaking the glass.

He looks at Betty and stops for a moment. The Hulk stares at her and says, "Friend?"

Betty nods and The Hulk grabs her and bolts for the back of the operating room.

He then smashes a sizable hole in the operating room wall and leaps away.

Talbot and Lex emerge from under a control panel and see Starnes bleeding on the floor with a sizable head wound.

Lex says, "Get the medics down here for him. We're going to see how much he knows and then begin tracking The Hulk."

Glenn nods and leaves the control room.

 

[Johnny Blaze]

It was as quiet as death on the harbor docks. The humidity was thick, and with no breeze a salty "mist" seemed to stick to almost instantly if you were outside. The humidity kept the guards inside their posts, monitoring the goings-on of the area from relative comfort.
A fact giving the Taskmaster an uninterrupted trip all the way to Pier 42 and the meet with his employer.

Masters arrived early, as he always does, to scout the territory first. There was a large pier that stretched out at least 100 yards into the water, and a guardshack that appeared to be vacant. The pier was surrounded by two large warehouses and a massive construction crane.
So the Taskmaster found a place hidden from view in the shadows, stashed his stolen prize, and there he waited. Boredom began to set in until a black escalade arrived around 1:13AM.

The doors opened up and four men came out, three of them armed. Two of the men made their way to other points around the vehicle and kept an eye on the perimeter, weapons lowered, but ready.
The third bodyguard stood by the fourth, unarmed man, a tall, lanky blonde man in a black suit with a green tie, and carrying a small briefcase.

The man in the suit picked up his phone and put it up to his ear. Suddenly, Taskmaster's phone began to buzz. The mercenary answered call, but didn't say anything.

"I know you're already here, Taskmaster. Don't mind my men, they're hear for protection. Come out so we may conclude our business."

The call cut off and silence returned to the scene as the Taskmaster stood unflinching as he eyed the men standing in the open area before him.

**** it, what's the worst that can happen?

Taskmaster strode out confidently as all eyes now turned to him. The man though frowned as Masters approached.
"I see you are empty handed...explain..."

"Careful, Hans...you don't think I've made it this far in the game by putting my trust in others. The package is secure. As soon as I know you and the three stooges here are on the up-and-up, you'll get it."

"Very well", the blonde man nodded after a tense moment of silence.
The man opened his briefcase, revealing a computer. After a few moments the man closed the briefcase.
"Two-hundred and fifty-thousand euros have been transfered to your desired accounts. You will get the other half only AFTER I have the package in my possession."

Taskmaster waited until he received confirmation of the transaction before proceeding.
"Fair enough, Klaus. I guess I'll go get your-"

Before Taskmaster could finish, the blonde man's head was lopped off as a streak of yellow sped by him.

"What the fu-" the bodyguard began to before the yellow blur zoomed by him, decapitating him mid-sentence.

Taskmaster produced his grappling hook as the other two guards were brutally killed, and made it up into the framework of the crane before hearing the laughter of a woman from where he was.

Spoiler

Looking down, Masters saw a beautiful blonde smiling back up at him, her arms caked in the blood of the dead men scattered around her.

"Guten abend, lover. It's been a while..."

 

[Byrd Man]

Previously

Spoiler

IC: Jim Gordon

Gotham Central
10:16 AM

I sip my coffee as I stand in the empty Major Crimes squadroom, looking over the corkboard we have up on the wall. Tacked at the top of the board are the heads of Gotham's Four Families: Carmine Falcone, Salvatore Maroni, Hammerhead, and Ma Gnucci. The Gnucci Family is a shell of their former selves, with Ma doing ten to life upstate at the state prison for women. The family's de facto boss, Billy "The Beaut" Rosso, is pretty running the family on Falcone's orders. It was either bend a knee to Falcone, or be wiped off the streets by the stronger families.
The MCU's prolonged investigation- everything from wiretaps and surveillance, to undercover drug buys and money laundering investigations -has identified every major player involved in the Four Families. From Falcone's underboss Fat Tony Zucco, to Gnucci foot soldier Johnny LaMonica. Slowly but surely, the net is tightening around all of them. Soon, the GCPD will swing a sledgehammer right into the mob's back and cripple it for good.

"Uhh, captain?"

I turn to Soap and raise my eyebrows as I take a sip from my coffee cup. Martin Soap is a hump, that's the word around the Central and the Districts anyway. He comes from a family of cops, his old man was my squad sergeant when I started out in patrol, but just because he's in the family business doesn't mean he can do the same things that his father, uncles, and grandfather did. He shot himself in the hand when he was in patrol, just playing with his gun on a rainy night. He was on his way to washing out the PD when I offered him a job here, monitoring our wires and keeping all the paperwork organized. He's a reject and an outcast, like a lot of us who work in the MCU.

"An Officer Byrd is here to see you. He's in your office."

"Thanks, Martin."

I pat Soap on the shoulder and walk into my office, where a heavyset, middle aged black man in a patrolman's outfit is waiting for me.

"Mister Byrd," I say, shaking his hand as I come in. "Always wanted to meet you."

"Thank you, Captain."

I sit down behind the desk and motion for Byrd to sit on one of the chairs facing the desk.

"Yeah, I was just getting my start when you were kicking ass in the Detective Bureau. I heard all the stories about Blackbyrd. The Burton kidnapping you worked in '89? Stuff of legends."

"Yeah, well, sir...all those days are behind me," he says with a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"Call me Jim. I'm not your sir. Far as I can tell, you should be sitting in the big chair, not Loeb."

"Never had a taste for rank. I'm much more at home in the streets."

I nod and pull out a pack of cigarettes, offering one to Byrd. He shakes me off and I light up a smoke.

"I understand. I feel the same way myself sometimes. Seems like my life was the happiest when I was a detective in homicide. None of the politics, or bureaucratic messes."

I stand up and motion for Byrd to follow me.

"Walk with me."

We go down to the parking garage adjacent to Gotham Central and get into my car. I crack a window to let the smoke drift out.

"Tell me about the summer of '95."

"It was hot, the Knights caught up to the Braves and won the pennant."

"What about the Schumacher bust? The Kraut Konnection?"

Byrd sighs and tugs at the collar of his uniform.

"It was in the papers, Jim. You were around then, you know the story."

"How many pounds of heroin and cocaine? Nearly a hundred a piece?"

"Two hundred," Byrd corrects. "A combined four hundred pounds of dope and blow on a ship anchored in the harbor, bunch of German smugglers were carrying it over here from the middle east."

"It was a record, I remember that. Nearly a half a billion dollars in drugs and weapons...and then it all vanished."

"Soon as I put it in the evidence locker, it disappeared," Byrd mumbles, his voice taking on a hard edge. "Nobody knew where it went...so somebody had to swing for it."

"You were their scapegoat. Charged you with, what? Conduct unbecoming or something?"

"Negligence and failure to do my duty...they gave me a choice of quitting or being kicked back to patrol, never to return to the Detective Bureau."

"And patrol is where you've stayed, for nearly sixteen years."

"Even running in drunks and helping out with the occasional bust is police work, more than I could do if I'd quit. What is all this about? You just want to tear open my old wounds and pour salt in them?"

"No. I'm here to give you another chance."

I reach into my pocket and pull out a small photo of a man in his official employee picture, decked out in his dress uniform.

"Who is this?"

"Lieutenant Arnold Flass. He was an officer in the evidence locker back in '95. He was on duty when you brought in the drugs from the Schumacher bust. Flass bought a new house in the burbs a year later, paid a hundred grand in cash. That's the biggest purchase he's made over the years, the rest of the money he quietly funneled into hidden bank accounts set up in his wife's name. There's nearly thirty accounts, all told some ten million dollars. I believe he stole the drugs and sold them back to the mob."

I tap the picture.

"You help me bring him down, and I'll bring you in from the cold."

Byrd looks at the picture, turning it in his hands.

"I don't know...I'm so close to my thirty year pension..."

"I'm offering you a chance at real police work, Byrd. A way to get back to being a real police. What do you say, is Blackbyrd still inside of you?"

He looks up and stares out the windshield, his eyes glazed over.

"What do you need me to do?"

Dutch Hill
3:04 AM


Jim Gordon stood on the playground just a block away from his home. The tip of the cigarette in his mouth glowed in the humid summer night. Gordon was sitting in a swing, gently rocking as he waited.

"Come out here often," a voice said behind him. Gordon turned and saw a heavyset black man dressed in a patrolman's outfit. In another time, another life, he had been Detective Sergeant Nathan Byrd -- With the nickname Blackbyrd, he had been an all-around warrior when it came to taking on the streets and the criminals in them. -- Now, though, he was just a lowly patrolman who people had forgotten about over the years. Byrd found out that, sixteen years on a shelf will make people forget about you, even people you had called your friend.

"I take my son and daughter here often," Gordon said, flicking the ashes off his cigarette. "Not as often as I'd like, but I get out here when I can."

"Right," the Byrd said, sitting down in a swing beside Gordon. "That's the cost of policing sometimes. Say what you will about them busting my ass back down to patrol, but at least I got a chance to see my son play baseball in high school."

"So what have you got for me, Nate?" Gordon asked, slowly exhaling a column of smoke from his mouth.

"I'm in with a group of cops over in my district. I told them that my son was going to college and I needed some extra cash."

"And they brought you in? Just like that?"

"I had to do something to establish my credibility. Prove that I was a team player."

"Tell me. If this goes to trial, you will be protected. I give you my word."

"Alright. Three days ago, I went with three others to the East End, no badges and in masks. There's an independent dealer that works a few blocks there, goes by the name of Frog. I was the wheelman and went in with the rest of the guys and robbed him. I had to beat him up. That was my initiation. They now have leverage on me in case I ever don't want to play ball. While I was beating him, they tore apart his house and took his money and his drugs."

"Why?"

"He was dealing in Falcone territory without permission."

"So, these guys robbed and beat up a drug dealer for the mob. Give me their names."

"Peter Garcia, Terrell Johnson were in with me. Walter Jones was the ringleader, he's a patrol sergeant."

"I know Walter. Worked with him when I was a watch commander in the Western. What was the cut, and what did you do with the drugs?"

"Jones kicked us each six grand, he took eight and some of the money went somewhere else. Same with the drugs. He took them and we never saw them."

"Right," Gordon nodded, tossing his cigarette butt to the ground and stomping it out. "It's a good start, Nathan. I want to know who Jones sent that money to."

"What about the drugs?"

"I can already guess on that. He probably handed it off to some Falcone bagman. A bagman with no vital knowledge, and nothing to give us. You follow drugs, you get drug dealers. But we follow the money, and there's no telling where it'll take us. So, keep on it. Keep your eyes and ears open, and keep in touch."

"You know," Byrd said, standing up. "I know what's in it for, but why are you doing this? You're MCU, not IA."

"Corrupt cops working for the mob? Sounds like a major crime to me."

"You know what I mean, Jim. Why is it just the two of us meeting in the dead of night? Where's our backup?"

"You've been doing this longer than I have, Byrd. You know exactly where our backup is. Nowhere. I'm running this investigation because I know how dirty the GCPD is, Internal Affairs included. It's time for a change, Nate. Time to scrub the department clean."

"Why the sudden urge?"

"I'm tired of trying to do my job while everyone around me doesn't do theirs. I'm tired of wallowing in apathy, tired of waking up day after day and knowing that what I do doesn't make a damn bit of different in making this city a better place. I'm tired and I'm mad and I'm not going to take it anymore. So, I'm doing something about it."

"So, the rumors are true."

"What rumors?"

"You and the Batman working together."

"Nate, I'm a Major in the Gotham City Police Department. I don't deal in rumors. I deal in evidence. Bring me more of the latter, none of the former."

"Alright, play it cool," Byrd said with a smirk. "Look, I gotta get back to my sector. My break's almost over."

"Keep in touch. And keep your wits about you. It won't happen overnight, but we will get Flass."

Byrd nodded and walked back across the park to his patrol car while Gordon lit up another cigarette, the flame from his lighter reflected off his glasses and hid his eyes behind the glint of the fire.

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Spoiler

War Journal Entry 22

Two months. It's been two months since I wiped the Juarez Cartel off the face of the Earth. All told, forty-four men died by my hand. Forty-four less human pieces of garbage out there, plaguing the world. Juarez and El Paso were the start of the cartel's America pipeline, the distribution spider-webbing all across the country. I followed a singular thread west, taking down any and all drug distributors I could find. While the men in Juarez were careful and deadly, their American associates were less than. From Mexican gangbangers in Texas, to New Mexico tweakers and Arizona rednecks, I followed the thread, killing my way westward. A week ago I crossed the Arizona state line into California, coming to the last stop on the trail.


East Los Angeles

The blue lights on top of the police car shone through the dim haze of the street lights. Officer John Pierce stepped out of his car and walked towards the black sedan pulled over to the side of the street. The driver was handcuffed and sitting on the sidewalk beside the car. The trunk was popped open. Backup was a few minutes out, and he had made sure to get in touch with Narcotics downtown.

He'd pulled over the car when he saw it commit a rolling stop a block back. The driver, a nervous and sweating Latino, had shaking hands as he had handed Pierce his license and registration. Following a gut feeling, Pierce had asked the man to step out. Tucked the man's waistband was a gun with the serial numbers filed off. After handcuffing him and putting him down, Pierce went to work searching the car. It was in the truck that he had found his haul.

"Holy ****," Sergeant Dave Clark said a few minutes later. He was leaned over the trunk, looking in. Bricks of cocaine and marijuana were in the car's trunk, stacked up as high as they could go. "Jesus, John... There's gotta be at least two hundred pounds of this..."

"Yep," Pierce said, looking down at the car's driver. "Wanna tell me where all this is going?"

"**** you," the man hissed at the officer. "This **** you just took is the cartel's. All of it. You're a dead man, puto. Dead."

*****

Eagle Rock
Los Angeles


LAPD Lieutenant Jason Maly cursed under his breath as he drove his unmarked car down the street. His Narco boys were in charge of babysitting tonight's shipment, and they had ****ed it up. They had ****ed it up big time. Some goddamn uniform with delusions of grandeur had just managed to impound over two million dollars worth of weed and coke. Someone was ****ing with his unit's livelihood, and he didn't take kind to that. Maly took a corner sharply, cutting off a driver in the process. Steering with his knees, Maly took his cellphone out and dialed a number.

"Antonio? It's Maly. Yes, I know about what happened tonight. I'm on my way to see what's going on. You don't have to worry about that. No, you don't need to worry about that. I'm taking care of it. No, no, no you tell your boss a greenlight won't be necessary. Because I said so, that's why. You can't just rub out a cop, not unless you want to keep on in business. No. No. Push comes to shove, I'll take care of it. Alright, bye."

Maly cursed again and accelerated his car as he hit the freeway. A few seconds later, a black muscle car pulled on to the freeway behind Maly. While keeping an appropriate distance, Frank Castle made sure that his car never lost sight of Maly's taillights as the lieutenant raced down the LA freeway.
​

South Central Los Angeles


The young man came to with a start. He blinked in confusion, looking around. A slow, dawning realization came to him as he took in his surroundings. He was hanging by his arms, chains wrapped around his wrists and lead upwards to the ceiling. His feet were planted on a concrete floor. In the room he was in, there was nothing around except the bare floor and a naked lightbulb that hung above his head.

As he began to process where he was, he also began to remember how he had got here. Sometime ago, he wasn't sure how long he had been out, but he was getting into his car when it all went back. The throbbing in the back of his was a good indication that he had been clubbed and knocked unconscious.

"Good morning," a voice said from the shadows.

"Whoever you are," the man said. "You are one dead mutha****a. You know that, right? You know who you just ****ed with, right?"

"Damon Adams, right? Leader of the Crenshaw Bloods. Been in and out of prison since you were twelve. You're a real OG, right?"

"**** you, mutha****a. You being paid to kill me? Whatever you gonna do to me, it's gonna cause a goddamn war through LA. Hundreds of Bloods rolling through the streets, looking for your ass."

"War, huh? That's what you call it? A bunch of dumb ***holes holding their guns sideways, leaning out of cars shooting at people is considered war?"

The voice stepped out the shadows, revealing the white skull emblazoned on his shirt. In his right hand was a glock. Damon tensed up as he saw the man raise the gun. The muzzle flashed, the gun kicked, and Damon grunted as he felt a bullet go into his stomach. He looked down and saw blood starting to trickle from the wound.

"A gut shot is one of the most painful places you can take a bullet. But the pain is nothing compared to the acid."

Damon was breathing heavy now, trying to ignore the immense pain he felt in his stomach. The man held the gun out as he approached Damon.

"Did you know the stomach has hydrochloric acid in it? That's the stuff that can eat rust off steel. There's a small amount of it in your stomach, not enough to eat through rust, but more than enough to eat through your organs."

The man placed the barrel of the gun against Damon's forehead.

"You are not getting out of this room alive. Know that right now. But, you cooperate, then I'll do you a favor and put a bullet in your head as soon as we're done. No muss, no fuss. I'll take you body and dump you out in your neighborhood. You want to act like a hard ass, want to play like you're a gangster. Then I leave you here and let you die slowly. In extreme cases, it can take four days to die of a gut wound. And when you die, I leave you here to rot. Ants and rats will eat your body until nobody will be able to recognize you. When you're eventually found, all bloated and chewed on, you'll be just another John Doe. Nobody will ever know where you went or what happened to do. So, how do you want to play it?"

Damon breathed heavy, closing his eyes and shaking from fear. "W-... What do you want to know?"

"Jason Maly is an LAPD lieutenant. A dirty one. What does he do with you gang and the cartel?"

"He gives us drugs. He gets 'em from those Mexican ****s in the cartel."

"Who does he work for in the cartel?"

"Work? It don't go down like that."

"Who bribes him?"

"Nobody," Damon said, licking his lips. "The cartel pays him to work in LA, we pay him for dope and coke. He don't call it bribes, he calls it rent. He calls himself the landlord. He's running the drug game, not us."

The man pulled the gun back and looked down for a moment, contemplating the words the young gangbanger had just told him. He put the barrel of the pistol back to Damon's forehead and continued.

"That major drug bust from the other day, that was the cartel's stuff?"

"Yeah," Damon grunted out. If he could lower his arms, he would have put them on his stomach to try and easy the pain. "Word on the street is that the cartel wants that ****ing cop that made the bust greenlit."

The man nodded and looked Damon in the eye. Damon began to squirm, tears starting to form in his eyes. "Please... Just let me go."

"No," the man said, thumbing back the gun's hammer. "I made a deal. I'm keeping it."

Damon didn't hear the gunshot, or feel the kick as the barrel knocked into his forehead. He didn't feel anything. Just oblivion.



Echo Park
Los Angeles

The four men were gathered around a black sedan that was one of only two cars on the parking garage's top level. They were all dressed in black, save for the man in a suit and tie. The suit was because Jason Maly had just gotten off his shift downtown.

"I checked the duty roster," Maly said. "Pierce is off tonight. I pulled his personnel file and found his address. Any questions?"

"Just him?" The bald, heavyset black man asked. He was Tyrus Jones, one of two sergeants in Maly's narcotics unit.

"Pierce has a wife and a kid. Do you think the cartel would spare them?"

The four men traded looks, the redheaded man to Maly's right looked unsure. "I mean, a kid? Really, boss?"

"This has to look like a cartel thing, James," Maly said with a scowl. "You can't do it, let Tyrus and Lopez go in while you watch the door."

"Whatever you want to do," Lopez, a thin Latino with long hair said nonchalantly. "I just think it's a whole lot of trouble to go through. I mean, this guy was a dumb patrolman who backed into this thing ass backwards. Just because the cartel wants to send a message, doesn't mean we have to."

"We do it," Maly said, "Because I said we do it. The cartel gets the blame for rubbing out a cop and his family, it'll cause a major ****storm on them. They'll all be in jail within two months. Antonio thinks he's the boss of me, I'll show him what it cost to get on my bad side. Mount up."

Maly walked away to his unmarked car while the other three detectives walked to the car they had arrived in. In the back of the car were ski masks, gloves, pistols, and shotguns all with serial numbers filed off on them. Maly watched as the car with his men in it pulled out and drove off into the night, heading for the home of Officer John Pierce.

 

[bkhedr]

The group of heroes leaped into action, Sue creating an invisible construct to lash out at an approaching group of alien attackers. The construct knocked the creatures back into the air away from them. "We got the distress signal and came as soon as we could. What's the situation, and who are you two?"

"Rest easy, Susan. These men wear the sigil of the Green Lantern Corps," Thor said with a nod at the two men. "I have fought alongside them, these two to be precise. They are noble warriors, indeed."

"Wait...," Flash said with a scowl. He looked at the human Green Lantern with confusion. "Green Lantern? Hal?"

"Incoming!" Johnny shouted, pointing upwards as a fiery ball of plasma rocketed towards their location.

​

Thor looks up, his eyes drawing a line to the point in space indicated by Johnny Storm, then takes to the air without hesitation, leaving a gust of wind in his wake.

"Come on Lad!" Johnny hears Hercules shout from his left. He turns his head to find that Hercules too, has wasted no time and is now wading through a horde of the invaders, his adamantine mace flashing this way and that "Thor will keep the skies clear, let us see to the defense of those on the ground!"

Johnny flames on as Thor meets the ball of plasma head on, striking it like a human missile and dissipating its cohesion enough that all that remains are stray pieces of plasma falling lazily to the planet below. It looked simple enough, but the super heated fireball had been intense enough that he could feel burns on his right hand, where Mjolnir had struck the massive projectile.

Ignoring this discomfort, Thor sets to spinning Mjolnir above his head as he scans the sky for more targets. It does not take long for another ball of plasma to come into view at the edge of the planet's atmosphere. The Odinson is about to move to intercept it when he suddenly pauses.

"Another?" Thor intones as he see another projectile, this one some distance away from the first, falling towards him. No matter, he could still intercept them both......but there are still more falling, 3, 4, a half a dozen.

"Odin's Beard."
​

 

[Optikal]

Spring Valley
New York​

Spector glared up at the blank visage of Khonshu and muttered a curse under his breath. The silence he received in reply was cut by the hum of his vibrating mobile phone. Still on the floor, out of his chair, Spector fumbled around and slid a finger across the screen.

"Yeah?"

"Marc. It's Jean-Paul. We're at Mount Sinai Hospital. If you can drag your ass out of your own self-pity for a second, your friend needs you"

"Marlene I-"

"Don't. Just get here, okay?"

The line cut dead and Spector let his head drop to his chest. The last time he had spoken to Frenchie, the former mercenary had attempted to lecture him about his painkiller addiction. Insults had been slung with reckless abandon and angry shallow words had torn apart a friendship that had lasted many years.

Frenchie had questioned as to why Marc wouldn't do physical therapy. Why he gave up. Why he locked himself away and shut out the world. But Frenchie didn't understand. He had tried his best and had failed. Not only that, but had his body destroyed in the process. Frenchie had spat a curse at what he saw as a pathetic shadow of a man he once loved and left.

That had been one and a half years ago.

Now something had happened. The man that was once his closest friend had been hurt and seriously enough for -of all people- Marlene, to call him and tell him. But it had been so long and he had been so certain that those bridges had been burnt.

The silence of the empty, unkempt mansion reverberated louder than ever.

Mount Sinai Hospital
New York.​

Spector gritted his teeth against the pain in his knees as he leaned on the cane. The room was quiet other than the little high pitched beep of medical equipment. In the bed, Frenchie lay unconcious. Heavily bandaged, his face was a mess, covered in huge purple and blue bruises. His eyes were swollen and cuts criss-crossed his features. A canula sat in the back of each hand providing care from two separate drips. By his side, Marlene sat, head bowed as she dozed lightly and a hand resting on the fingers of the injured man.

Spector said nothing, he just stare at his oldest friend and last love as they sat, familiar strangers to him. Some had done a serious number on Jean-Paul. Spector was at a loss. He had heard that Frenchie had set up his own little brasserie down-town and was doing fairly well. He lived the kind of life that didn't make you many enemies. But the man was a mercenary in a past life and that made you enough enemies to last a lifetime. In their trade grudges were timeless.

Marlene awoke and looked up, her eyes red and tired. "So, you found the front door?"

"How is he?"

"How does he look?"

"Who did it?"

"Does it matter?"

"Who?"

"They say it was a couple of Egans Rats"

"The Irish gang? Why?"

"For Gods sake Marc! Does it matter?! Who knows? Maybe you should find them and ask them!"

Spector let his gaze fall upon his old friend once more. "Will he be okay?"

"In time, yeah".

"Good".

Spector rubbed at his bearded jaw and closed his eyes, taking a depp breath. This was the first time he had seen her in over a year and there were a million things he wanted to say to her. He wanted to apologise. To ask for forgiveness. To be granted another shot. To reignite the flame. Just one chance to claw back a small fraction of the happiness they used to share.

"Take care of him Marlene"

Without another word his hand had found the door handle and he slipped out of the quiet room.

 

[trustyside-kick]

OOC: Previously...
Black Bolt

Some say that after the great battle between the Inhumans and Apokolips, Blackagar was never the same. Others claim, that he was as stoic as ever. The Stoic Inhuman King. There is a reasoning for this conflicting of ideas as Blackbolt now resides on a distant uninhabited planet with a distant moon in a distant star system. What is left of it, at least. And what is left of it as of the events of a few weeks ago. With Lockjaw teleporting away leaving him to be the only sentient being for lightyears. It is his loved ones that see their Inhuman King as changed; his people as though he is still the same strong, stoic, relentless man.

What makes a man relentless? When he strives towards an ideal that he does not carry for the betterment of his peers and those he looks after...but when that ideal carries him. A relentless man has no trouble chasing after such things when it is not really him doing the heavy lifting.

What makes a man stoic? Some might say this trait can be found in those who have had to make the harder choices for others, realizing long ago that such choices had to be made. Such is a trait commonly found in a good King. But does it really only lie within such a man? Perhaps of the three traits, this is one that Black Bolt has had the most difficulty grasping onto; clinging to it desperately as it is what he was always most used to and perhaps the fear of losing this of all haunts him. He has not let himself properly mourn, as he strides towards being that 'good King' for his people in this time to rebuilding and need.

Allow yourself to mourn, good, fellow, Inhuman King. You do not need to be strong for your family and your people right now. You are alone.

Let go. If for just a moment. With these glamorous stars and moonlight...just let it all out. No one's asking you to be strong right now.

What makes a man strong? Right now, good King...you need not worry. We shall get to that later.


Weeks Ago
Apokolips

With the entire Royal Family say for Black Bolt, Maximus, and Karnak captured...victory seems to be slipping away from the Inhuman Race. They have come so far, tread much on this forsaken land of fire pits and smoke, fought what can only be described as demons of Darkseid's horde...only to lose? After Granny Goodness had exposed the tortured Ahura to Medusa, Crystal, and Gorgon, and contacted Lord Darkseid they rendezvoused and sent out a signal to Maximus within his Chorus Sentry battle suit.

​

Maximus had taken to the skies, leaving the Inhuman forces in the capable hands of their King as Black Bolt had returned to the main flank. The T-Bomb was in range but had to be safely landed manually from the atmosphere. As he was just within its reach is when he got the message from Darkseid himself.

"--zzt, Maximus...the Mad, isn't it? Do I have the right frequency?"

"Only my brother gets to call me that...and keep his head. Besides, I think it is rather time that they call me Maximus the Magnificent now after all the Apokoliptian blood we have spilled thanks to my genius."

"Ah, so it is your genius that I should thank, for handle me majority of the Inhuman Family on a silver platter? Beaten, and broken...ready to Die for Darkseid."

"..."

"I think it is time that we end this pathetic crusade you and your brother have started. Unless you wish to be the last survivor of the Royal Family and flee, good prince."

Swearing under his breath as his Chorus Sentry suit grabs hold of the T-Bomb, Maximus patches into communications with the Inhuman Warship to have them patch into Black Bolt's comm-link.

"Brother...we have a problem."


Now
On a distant planet, with a distant moon, in a distant star system

So what makes a man strong? Well, that doesn't really quite narrow things down now...does it? Hmm...perhaps there is a need of rephrasing the question? Then again, depends on the person and luckily here...everything that makes Blackagar Boltagon strong ties together and falls under one precious thing. But he is not feeling strong. Not anymore. He hasn't felt strong for weeks. Not since the T-Bomb detonated and his life...too eradicated. But while he has not felt strong in weeks, he has had to force himself to be.

Just let it go, good King. There's no one else here but you. It was Triton who had told the tale of how eons ago this civilization crumbled under its own hubris. Is that why you came here, King? But it was not your hubris that brought you this pain. Maximus did thorough research on this star system. Karnak made sure that there would be no potential threats in the vicinity, and Gorgon assured you that if there were...he'd fight them off for you to the ends of this world...and the next and the next. Crystal didn't want you to go. Not alone, at least. Although...she understands why you did. But she just wishes that she could have at least taken the trip with you and simply 'ported back with Lockjaw. And Medusa, well...

...shhh. It is ok, good King. Just let it all out. You've put off this process for far too long.


Weeks Ago
Apokolips

The battlefield...calm. The air...still filled with anguish and blood as the bodies of the dead on both sides remain mutilated and broken on the floor. Darkseid...smiling. He smiles as he approaches the Inhuman King. Like that of Ancient Greece on Earth, as if the battle had not yet truly begun, the two Generals meet on the battlefield. Of course, as Black Bolt must force himself to be a mute, his younger brother Maximus joins his side no longer in the Chorus Sentry for the time being. As Blackagar walks toward the Dark God, just past him he can see his wife and family and...Ahura. Thank the Source that Ahura is in fact alive.

None of this will be in vain.

"You fought a good fight, Inhuman King. Your warriors nearly rival that of the Gods of New Genesis as though you stemmed from the same bloodline. But as you must know, that will not be enough. For they have not been able to stop me in the past. Now...I hold your son...your wife...her sister, and your cousins under my heel. I need simply to step...and they Die for Darkseid."

"So...what? You are trying to make some sort of deal with us? Like that ridiculous pact you have with New Genesis."

"Not the same...no. Highfather and I traded sons making that pact...and I understand that Black Bolt surely wishes to have his son back. Although, the...symmetry of it all is amusing. I took your Ahura away from you...and you took Kalibak away from me. Of course...I can still give you back your son, Blackagar. Serve Apokolips, as my Inhuman Elite, and you not only get your son back but your family and Atillan as well. All will go unharmed...all forgiven. If you swear to Die for Darkseid whenever I have need to call upon you."

Black Bolt is stoic as ever. No true emotion is portrayed on the surface. This is one of the scenarios The Quintessence had feared though not brought to Blackagar's attention. They did not wish to tell the Inhuman King of his possible fates because none of them would end well unless he simply did not pursue Kalibak. The leader of the Inhumans studies his foe for a brief moment. He contemplates the potential damage he could do right now with a point-blank quasi-sonic scream to try to end Darkseid once and for all.

If the attack would even be enough.

Blackagar is not stupid. He understands the power that is Darkseid. Darkseid IS. He should not have to, for Maximus should obviously know the answer, but in case his fickle brother is feeling...fickle again Black Bolt turns his head and signals to Maximus his answer for Darkseid. Maximus in return speaks on his brother's behalf.

"Our people were created for this purpose...and it has been our life-long pursuit to avoid being mere weapons. Do I really need to continue and give you a grand speech? The answer is no, Darkseid. And...haha, it is funny that you think you hold all of the leverage here. We Inhumans came here with a clear mission: one of devotion. We either take Ahura back home...or die trying."

"Ah...the strong and heroic approach. Tell me this, Inhuman Prince...where do you find strength? What makes you strong? You did not falter for one bit as you spoke to me in such a tone. Is it because you have your big brother backing you up for once? Him and his...quasi-sonic scream, yes?"

For a brief moment, Darkseid pauses, and then his eyes begin to glow. Maximus is struck with awe and pain as suddenly the Dark God is invading his mind telepathically. The brother of the King tries valiantly to telepathically push Darkseid away, but he struggles as he puts everything he has into his counter attack in his mind. He falls on his knees in pain as Darkseid stops.

"You have transported a deadly bomb on my planet. This...T-Bomb of yours can annihilate not only Apokolips...but even New Genesis with its blast radius. You would sacrifice innocence to meet your goal? Perhaps I was wrong...perhaps you are strong indeed. And what of you, Inhuman King...oh, how I wish I could hear that voice. There are tales of how your mere whisper can shatter a mountain. Therefore I am intrigued. There were also rumors that your son inherited such a gift. But when Granny Goodness put him to the test she said all he did was cry. Like a child. A weakling. His quasi-sonic scream did not emit. Will it be the same with you when you die, Black Bolt? Will you scream?...or will you cry?"

As Darkseid, Black Bolt, and Maximus lie at the center of the battlefield exchanging words...Karnak, the Saturnian Jemm, and all of the freed telepaths now slowly sneak up upon the Apokoliptian forces from behind. Perhaps this battle is not yet over after all.


Now
On a distant planet, with a distant moon, in a distant star system

What makes you strong, good King, that you feel you have no strength left? That you wish to weep, but cannot seem to do so. You're still trying to be strong, good King, but I'm afraid that is not possible at this point. How could you be? Where could you possibly be finding the strength right now? Medusa hasn't been able to look at you since the battle. Know that she does not find the strength to look at you because you remind her so much of...it is NOT because she blames you for anything. She doesn't blame you at all, good King. No one does.

So why won't you let yourself mourn? It is part of the healing process. A step you must take. Let it out, good King. Just let it out.

I think I know why you aren't strong anymore. And I think I know what you have found to replace that lack of strength to keep you from mourning. It is not right, good King. It will only bring you pain. A man is only guilty of the good he did not do. Do you feel that you did not do all that you could do?

Let it out, good King.


Weeks Ago
Apokolips

Swiftly and silently, Karnak and the freed telepaths make their way through Darkseid's forces. Each of different skill and strength however amplified by their need for either revenge or simply to escape, these telepaths silently shut down the minds of parademon after parademon temporarily. Jemm halts Karnak as he spots Ahura in the distance beside Granny Goodness, her Female Furies, and the Inhuman Royal Family.

"The device in Granny Goodness' hand is what the Apokoliptians call a Father Box; their version of the New Genesis Mother Box. Like the Mother Box, there is some telepathic properties and I fear that soon we will be in range to where it will be aware of our actions. I will charge forth, giving you the time to get Ahura and your cousins to safety."

"You do not need to make such a sacrifice, Jemm."

"You brought me life when I sought after death, Inhuman Karnak. I must."

Jemm the Saturnian charges forth, with a small army of telepaths as they continue their telepathic assault on Darkseid's forces. The Father Box on Granny Goodness' person starts to PING sporadically and the rest of Darkseid's forces are now aware of the sneak attack. In the distance, at the center of the overall battlefield, Darkseid turns towards the commotion.

"Ah...it would seem that you have let out my test subjects. Those that I was hoping would bring me closer to obtaining The Phoenix Force...my offer still stands Inhuman King but know that with this blow I must at least take a life. Perhaps...your brother!"

Darkseid charges at Maximus the Mad, but Black Bolt obviously interjects, uppercutting the Dark God. Wiping away the blood with a smirk on his face Darkseid swings at Blackagar, hitting him clean in the face and knocking him several feet away. This is a battle that the Inhuman King cannot win.

Over at the battle now between what is left of Darkseid's parademons, Granny Goodness and her Furies, and the Royal Family, Karnak frees the Royal Family from their Apokoliptian bonds only to be distraught with concern.

"Where...WHERE IS AHURA?!"

Medusa looks around the battle field, and she cannot see him either.

"He was just with me! Ahura! AHURA!!!!"

They do not see it as I do now...they do not see little Ahura as he makes a most selfless of acts that will win the Inhumans this battle. When the Father Box started to PING sporadically it affected young Ahura, awakening the feared Evil Eye that Jemm had spoke of that he sensed within the boy. Taking possession of Lockjaw's mind as the beloved pet sits on his master's chair in the distant warship, Lockjaw suddenly teleports at Ahura's will.

Gorgon, while fighting alongside Triton, spots Ahura sprinting across the battlefield; away from one danger but to another as he heads towards Darkseid, his father, and Maximus.

"My Queen! I have spotted Ahura! But I do not understand his actions!"

"Crystal! Clear me a path!"

Heeding to her sister's plea, Crystal lets out a small earthquake around them, pushing it to make a clear but broken path to the more open center of the battlefield. But it is too late. Suddenly Lockjaw appears as Ahura makes it over to his father and Darkseid who are tied in battle. Shocked, Blackagar tries to grab Darkseid from behind and entangle him with a tight grip. He succeeds...but then Ahura takes control of Black Bolt's mind, making him let go, and with Darkseid free Ahura grabs his hand, holds onto Lockjaw, and they teleport away. Not even Darkseid's own telepathic might could prevent Ahura from shutting down his motor functions just long enough to grab hold and leave.

With Darkseid seemingly vanished...the battle stops as quickly as it escalated.


Now
On a distant planet, with a distant moon, in a distant star system

It would appear that Ahura knew of this uninhabited place just as Triton did. A world that had already died, but pieces of it still lingered. He had heard of it from one of the fellow captive telepaths during his capture at the hands of Granny Goodness and Desaad. Such is the place that Black Bolt had Lockjaw teleport him to. Maximus made sure to look into Lockjaw's mind to see where he had ported to...and it is in the place that Ahura sacrificed himself that Blackagar Boltagon now stands. The debris of the T-Bomb blast.

Kalanor. The first one at least. It had been nearly decimated when the Kalanorians tried to harness the Phoenix Force power. Ahura had taken Darkseid here to show him what had happened the last time The Phoenix Force had been harnessed. The Dark God chuckled for a moment, but then Ahura assured him as Lockjaw then teleported away that he need not worry because Ahura had already started the timer for the T-Bomb, which he had Lockjaw teleport to this system moments before he and Darkseid teleported.

Angered, the Dark God slapped the child across the face, and through his own means tried to teleport away as the T-Bomb went off. Since these events, Darkseid has yet to return to Apokolips and so some wonder if Ahura succeeded in killing the Dark God or he somehow made it out alive.

Alas...it appears that the Inhuman King is ready. Ready to mourn. Ready to let it all out.

"It should've been me..."

His whisper destroys the debris he was standing upon, causing Black Bolt to fall several feet down until his legs find bearing on the next piece of debris. He whispers again.

"Ahura, my boy...it should have been me..."

Another whisper, more destruction. He does not care. His legs do not have the strength to stand he does not wish to. He falls once again. Now...as Maximus, Karnak, and Jemm told Black Bolt of the evolution of Ahura's powers to where he seemed to have lost his quasi-sonic scream and developed a type of telepathy they described as an inner Evil Eye...Black Bolt understood that Ahura was able to do what he did because of said power. Was able to render Darkseid immobile just long enough to keep him captive to do what he felt needed to be done.

But in the end that doesn't matter. A father should not outlive his son. A father should be able to watch his son grow up to be a man. A better man than his father could ever be.

This time he lets out a roar or rage. He was ready to die to save his son's life. Was his son...did his son already know that he was ready to die to save his father and all of his people? Was he scared? So many years Black Bolt kept his son hidden from Inhuman Society because of what The Council decreed and for his own safety. Did he son ever feel scared? He doesn't know. He never got to know his son, truly. He had to act like he never existed.

"IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME!"
​

Irrationality still wins...but at least now...as the Inhuman King floats as there is no more debris to land on...he finds himself finally mourning. He takes the first step towards healing. Before, as The Quintessence feared, he wished to die. When a man feels that he has nothing to live for, he can do horrid and terrible things. The Quintessence feared that this could bring upon a new age for the Inhumans. That Black Bolt's rage and death wish could pull the cosmos into a greater intergalactic war. Such a thing has happened in the past with others. A vicious cycle.

Black Bolt does wish death upon him right now for feeling like he did not do enough. He still does...at this moment...but soon, unexpected from the 'supposed' wise and powerful that look over the cosmos...Blackagar will find peace and look towards life.

I know...for I am The Source.
​

 

[Carnage27]

​

"Wait...," Flash said with a scowl. He looked at the human Green Lantern with confusion. "Green Lantern? Hal?"

"Incoming!" Johnny shouted, pointing upwards as a fiery ball of plasma rocketed towards their location.

Thor greets us in his usual Thor-like way, and explains away our presence to the two members of the Fantastic Four that have landed on Rann. I can only assume that the other two are in a ship fighting the space battle above.

But one of the other ones with them. The one in the red and yellow get up. He looks at me and acts like he knows me. But I'm sure I've never seen the guy in my life.

And that's when Johnny Storm calls out and fire begins raining down from on high.

"Another?" Thor intones as he see another projectile, this one some distance away from the first, falling towards him. No matter, he could still intercept them both......but there are still more falling, 3, 4, a half a dozen.

"Odin's Beard."
​

Thor destroys the first plasma ball that reaches him, but more and more come into view, ready to incinerate the defending forces that are fighting along side us.

Sinestro and I kick off the planet's surface in formation. We reach the first plasma ball, and catch it with a pair of emerald hands, tossing it into another. They form one, and then Sinestro and I toss the large plasma back from which it came.

But we're not going to be fast enough to get all of them. We split up and I manage to deflect one into a large lake, evaporating it into oblivion. Sinestro manages to get rid of one as well, and Thor takes care of another two.

"Thanks buddy," I smile at the Asgardian. "Nice to be fighting along side you again."

"We're not going to be fighting for long if those ships keep firing on us from space," Sinestro says. "But Green Lantern reinforcements have arrived. I will lead them from space. Jordan, Thor. You two will have to handle the ground assault."

"Will do," I nod to Sinestro. We had never gotten along all that well. But these past two missions we've started to become powerful partners. "Good luck."

As he flies off, I turn back to Sue Storm and the guy in the red, "Hey, any bright ideas!?"

 

[Byrd Man]

Thor destroys the first plasma ball that reaches him, but more and more come into view, ready to incinerate the defending forces that are fighting along side us.

Sinestro and I kick off the planet's surface in formation. We reach the first plasma ball, and catch it with a pair of emerald hands, tossing it into another. They form one, and then Sinestro and I toss the large plasma back from which it came.

But we're not going to be fast enough to get all of them. We split up and I manage to deflect one into a large lake, evaporating it into oblivion. Sinestro manages to get rid of one as well, and Thor takes care of another two.

"Thanks buddy," I smile at the Asgardian. "Nice to be fighting along side you again."

"We're not going to be fighting for long if those ships keep firing on us from space," Sinestro says. "But Green Lantern reinforcements have arrived. I will lead them from space. Jordan, Thor. You two will have to handle the ground assault."

"Will do," I nod to Sinestro. We had never gotten along all that well. But these past two missions we've started to become powerful partners. "Good luck."

As he flies off, I turn back to Sue Storm and the guy in the red, "Hey, any bright ideas!?"

"Just point me towards the bad guys, I'll do the rest," Flash said, his body beginning to vibrate as he sped up. "Sorry about what I said earlier. Umm, I got me confused with someone else. It's a long story."

"He's from a parallel world where superheroes like you and him exist."

"Okay, not that long of a story."

Flash took off, racing across the ground towards a mass of insect invaders. Overhead, Johnny swooped down and blasted them with a fire blast as Flash came in, knocking the bugs to the left and right with sped up punches.

******

Above the planet of Rann, Ben pulled the spaceship's control yoke and banked to the right as Reed opened fire with plasma cannons, racking ordnance across the hull of a warship.

"Ben, we have incoming," Reed said, looking down at the monitor. A Green Lantern member flew over their ship, but was knocked back as a laser blast blew him out the sky. "Three missiles right behind us. They're locked on us."

"Startin' evasive maneuvers," Ben said through gritted teeth. He began to dip, duck, dodge, and weave through the chaos and carnage of the space battle. "Can't shake 'em. Reed, brace for impact!"

BOOM!

The ship rattled and shook, sparks flying and flames covering it as the craft began to explode. Reed stretched his arm out, hitting a button on Ben's console. An energy bubble formed around the two men and shot them up out the top of the ship as flames engulfed it. Reed spun through the vacuum of space, the protective bubble that surrounded him was the only thing keeping him alive.

Almost a kilometer away, Ben was spinning away from the wreckage and Reed. A fighter flew overhead, barely avoiding clipping him. Ben saw something out the corner of his eye as it whizzed by. It was small and metallic. It zoomed by again before coming to stop right in front of him. It was a green ring.

"Benjamin Grimm of Earth," a metallic voice said from the ring. "You have the ability to overcome fear..."
​

 

[bkhedr]

"Just point me towards the bad guys, I'll do the rest," Flash said, his body beginning to vibrate as he sped up. "Sorry about what I said earlier. Umm, I got me confused with someone else. It's a long story."

"He's from a parallel world where superheroes like you and him exist."

"Okay, not that long of a story."

Flash took off, racing across the ground towards a mass of insect invaders. Overhead, Johnny swooped down and blasted them with a fire blast as Flash came in, knocking the bugs to the left and right with sped up punches.

Thor hovers several feet of the ground, dealing death with Mjolnir and keeping the seemingly endless swarm of small, airborne attackers, at bay.

"What are these things?" Thor asks aloud as his swinging mallet smashes a handful of winged bugs in a single swipe "What do they want from this world?"

"Questions for another time Brother Thor!" He hears Hercules respond from somewhere below and to the right of him "They are here and they shall fall beneath our fists! Now see to the left flank! I'd do it myself, but my hands are full!"

Thor looks at Hercules and finds the Olympian standing atop a large and growing pile of felled foes. Though prone to exaggeration, the Son of Zeus had spoke true when he said his hands were full. Even now another wave of invaders, seemingly undaunted by the deaths of their fellows, charge at him and Thor, turns his attention away from the grisly scene and towards the left where a massive centipede like monstrosity some 200 hundred feet in length, had burst through a wall and was even now bearing down on the heroes' position.

Tightening his grip on Mjolnir, Thor launches himself towards the beast. Hercules was right, better to focus on the battle at hand and leave the whys and wherefores of this invasion until the invasion had been repelled.

​

 

[bkhedr]

Iron Man is cruising several hundred feet above the Kunada mountain range that marks the Southern edge of the Latverian-Symkarian border.

"Anything?" Silver Sable questions via the comm system in his helmet. She's doing her best not to show it, but Tony knows her well enough to hear the nervous edge to her voice.

"Not yet." He replies, hoping he's done a better job of hiding his frustration than she did her nervousness

"I don't like this Stark." She says. There it is again, 'Stark', she was making a point not to use his first name if anyone was in earshot. "I know you claim your Iron Man is undetectable by radar but Von Doom may have more advanced detection systems than you anticipate, and Symkaria cannot afford more tension at the border."

Tony almost cracks a smile "Don't worry Princess. No way does Doom have anything that can track this suit."

This was a search and rescue mission and Tony had packed accordingly. The suit he now wears is the stealth specific armor he designed for such missions. While more lightly armed and armored than his standard armor, the suit boasts the most advanced detection suppression and data collection technology he had ever developed. So far it had kept his movements hidden from anyone he didn't want to know he was there. Unfortunately, he had, as of yet, not found any sign of any hostiles, or any hint as to the what happened to King Ernst, the rest of the missing Symkarians, or Hawkeye.

"Hold on..." Tony adds, rather suddenly, when his HUD alerts him to something deep in the rock, beneath the mountain he is now passing over.

"I've got something." He says after taking a moment to confirm the readings "A faint energy signal. I'm going to try to get a closer look."

With that, Tony begins a rapid descent which he is only barely into when a collision detection system inside his helmet demands his attention.

He quickly levels out and turns his head in the direction of the threat only for a mass of teeth to fill his view screen "Whuunggh!?"

The teeth gnash at him, scraping loudly across his face plate, while clawed arms grab his wrists. Tony tries free himself, get the upper hand, but the thing attacks relentlessly, like some kind of wild animal. Something hard and sharp wraps itself around his waist and he starts falling, as if being yanked out of the sky, even as the monster on top of him keeps up its assault.

"Tony!" He hears Sable's voice, using his first name and full of obvious concern, as the ground grows rapidly closer. "Tony!!!"
​

 

[Optikal]

Flushing
New York​

The underbelly of the city was swollen to bursting with the filth and decay the same as pretty much any major population center. Sometimes it was masked by regeneration and police crackdowns but if you knew where to look, which stone to overturn, you'd always find the dirt.

The Rats positively thrived in it. A gang of Irish descended street toughs, they made their living robbing, extorting and terrorizing those who were too fearful or too downtrodden to do anything about it. Controlled by the three Egan brothers, they had lived and worked and fought with all of the other operations around the underworld to keep the sense of fear and apprehension on the streets palpable. Recently though, there had been reports of them stepping up their operation, muscling out the Albanians and the Hogan clan recently. If there was blood on the streets, it was likely to be flowing from the Rats' teeth.

Spector pulled up his car, a shabby unassuming old sedan across the road from the Leaping Leprechaun, an Irish themed pub, known to be a popular haunt for the Rats. Embracing the fire that shot through his tortured body, Spector limped across the darkened street and stepped into the smoky bar.

A bartender stood by idly, his arms crossed over his chest, heavy gut resting similarly over his belt buckle. In the single large room two men stood taking turns at a pool table. Across from them sat three men, all wearing the familiar garb of the Rats. Bowler hats, moustaches and green bow-ties.

Spector, dressed in a long dark coat, his hair still overgrown and unkempt limped across to the table.

"Can we help ye fella?" asked one of the men. He was an average man, with a mop of messy red hair and thick sideburns.

"I'm looking for the guys that did over the Duchamp guy".

Another of the men eyed him suspiciously and scratched at a chubby arm. "You a member of our fine law enforcement, friend?"

"I'm no cop" Spector answered simply.

The third man grinned, he was missing his two front teeth, the rest were yellowed and cracked. A limp cigarette butt hung from his bottom lip. "Well why're you looking for those people? What business could you possibly have with men who do such heinous things?"

"I just need to know why they did it. And then when I find out I'm going to rip their guts out and strangle the filthy Irish bastards with their own ****ing intestines". Spectors words were a snarl through gritted teeth.

The three men stood up and glared at the man leaning on a cane. "You know fella, coming in here and asking questions that you really don't want to know the answers to was a pretty ballsy move. But coming in here and throwing threats around like that? Well that pal, that was jus' plain stupid. Now, we don't much like beatin' on cripples but if you don't limp yer broken arse out of that door in the next few seconds, me an' my brothers here are goin' te re-evaluate our morals".

Spectors head dropped a little. A smirk appearing on his face. Without another word his cane lashed through the air, clocking Sideburns face and knocking him back. the swing reversed into a thrust and the cane slammed into the squidgy chest of the bigger man. He fell back with a scream, the cane jutting from the flowering crimson bloom under his shirt. Spector leapt at the third man as a pistol was drawn, grabbing the gun wrist and rolling around the arm, his free elbow clocking Cigarette man in the temple and his other hand firing the gun at Sideburns. Sideburns dropped to the ground, Spector twisted the arm of the gunman and felt the bones pop and snap beneath his grip. Cigarette man screamed and fell back. Spector grasped the gun and fired a single shot into Cigarette mans temple.

Across the room, the two pool players gripped their cues and stared at the crippled man.

"Run" he snarled.

Glancing at each other for a second, they dropped their cues and raced for the door. The barman was nowhere to be seen.

Spector made his way over to where Sideburns was still laying, bleeding and clutching at the gunshot wound in his side. Blood was beginning to froth from his mouth. "Ye shot me! ye crazy ****ing bastard, ye ****ing shot me!"

"Yeah. I did. Now, before you die, why'd you target the French guy?"

"Is that all this is about?! Ye're off yer damn rocker! We beat up one dirty poncey queer an' you come in an' do this?!" His eyes were wide now, pupils dilating.

"You hospitalized him because he was gay?"

"We were just havin' a bit o' fun! It's not right, two men together. We're proud Catholics, we couldn't be havin' that business in our neighbourhood! It's not a good image. But don't you worry about that pal! When Danny Egan an' his brothers here about this, they're going to find you and you'll pay. They'll go to war for this you dumb ****! The Rats will tear you an' yer queer boyfriend apart!"

Spector glared at the man and stood, pulling the cane out of the fat corpse with a sharp tug and limped out towards the door.

"They're coming for you yer crazy ****!" Sideburns screamed after him.

"I look forward to it" Spector growled.

 

[Carnage27]

"Cap!" I hear Dinah call as she races down the hallway towards the hangar. "Cap!"

I look over at Coulson and shrug, figuring it's just something the kid wants. And yet, it's weird considering her a kid. I mean, technically I'm only twenty-five, and she can't be much younger than that. But she's a kid in every aspect. But she is learning.

She slides into the hangar in full gear, and I instantly become interested in what she has to say, "What's going on?"

"Iron Man," she responds with a dire look in her eyes. "A distress signal was sent from his suit."

"Automated or sent by Stark himself?" Coulson adds his own question.

"Automated," Black Canary responds.

"Maybe he's just drunk," Coulson responds, deadpan. But I know he's worried.

"Not likely. Get us ready for liftoff," I nod to him. "I'll get the team together."

**********

Quinjet
En Route to Symkaria

"Okay, we don't know what Iron Man ran into," I say, turning the copilot's seat back to face the rest of the team. All of them look ready and eager. Which is good. "But until we find out, I'm going to assume he found the HYDRA base we were looking for. And with it, those creatures. You know what they are, and you know what they're capable of."

"So what's the plan, sir?" Agent Romanoff asks, her intensity burning through her eyes.

"First, we secure Iron Man," I respond. "Then we break into two teams. Alpha goes to secure whatever HYDRA is using to control the creatures. Omega heads in and gets Barton out. Coulson keeps the bird in the air for a quick extraction. Iron Man, Wonder Woman, and me are Alpha."

Canary interjects, "Sir, if possible I'd like to be on Alpha team."

She's getting her feet underneath her. Getting gutsy. I like that, "Okay, kid. You got it. Canary is on Alpha. Diana, you're with Wildcat and Widow and Omega."

"And after we have Agent Barton secured?" Diana asks, examining her blade.

"If he can fight, all of you find us and assist us. If not, Widow and Wildcat get him to the bird while Wonder Woman joins us. Once Hawkeye is secured and safe aboard the Quinjet, the other two will join. Understood?"

"Yea, sounds just like old times. Tag 'em and bag 'em, eh Cap?" Wildcat smiles.

"Let's hope it's that easy," I nod. "And let's hope we crush HYDRA today. The quicker we get rid of them, the better."

"Arriving in about an hour," Coulson says form the cockpit. "Get ready, everyone."
​

 

[Eddie Brock]

New York City
0030 Hours

When the next night comes, the tension between myself, Corben, and Hannibal is palpable. We're all very aware that this plan is a long-shot. There's every chance Morbius won't even get our message. Or that he'll realize that I wasn't Martine Bancroft. Or that Frost's men won't let him leave Garwood Industries. Hell, Corben's betting that Morbius is more co-conspirator than captive at this point, and Hannibal isn't convinced that he's wrong.

Me? I don't know what to think. I just want to feel like we finally have control over the situation. This whole case, it's felt like we were simply being strung along. And frankly, without Hannibal, Corben and I would be totally lost. It's time to wrap this up, one way or another, before Quartermain starts calling for both our heads.

I'm sitting on the bed in our hotel room while Corben smokes out on the balcony. Hannibal is nearby, listening by earpiece, to ensure that Morbius can't run away if he does show. "Face it. Your boyfriend's not gonna show," Corben remarks bitterly.

I shoot him a quick look. He's been negative about this plan from the start, but we don't need his negativity right now. "He's not my boyfriend, and you don't know--"

There's a sharp gust of wind which sends the open curtains to fluttering. "You are not Martine Bancroft," an accented voice announces. I spin to see the gaunt, shadowy figure of Dr. Michael Morbius standing in the now-open doorway to the hotel room. He sneers, his eyes glowing red in the darkness. "What is the meaning of this?"

I stand up slowly, not wanting to scare Morbius away. "Dr. Morbius, I'm Special Agent Danvers, and this is Special Agent Corben," I explain. I keep my hands where Morbius can see them, but it's not like I have my service pistol holstered. Hannibal assured me it would do me no good, anyway. "We're with the FBI."

"The FBI?" Morbius eyes us suspiciously. "Why have you summoned me here?"

Corben walks in from the balcony, but he's being far less cautious than I. Morbius' eyes are drawn to the holster on Corben's hip. "We want to know about your work, Doctor. The work you're doing for Deacon Frost. The serum."

"Curse the damn serum!" Morbius spits. "I wish I had never started it! Only evil has come of it!"

Corben and I look at each other. Sounds like Morbius hasn't bought into Frost's propaganda after all, even after being converted to their "team." That's good. "Tell us what happened, Doctor. Please."

"Frost thought that turning me into a... into a monster would make me see the light," Morbius replies. "That I would somehow be won over to his insane cause! But I wouldn't! I... I couldn't..."

"What about Martine Bancroft?" Corben asks.

Morbius looks up, and I see a sadness and pain in his eyes like I've never seen before. His voice trembles as he continues. "I never meant to involve Martine in any of this!" he swears. "But... the hunger... I couldn't control myself! It wasn't me. It was this... monster Frost made me! I... I..."

"I know you didn't mean to kill her, Doctor," I assure him softly.

Without looking up, Morbius says, "Once I... once she was gone, I didn't know what to do. I knew that the police would come looking for me. Frost offered me protection."

"So you repaid him by working on the serum again?" Corben responds accusingly.

"No! I told him that I wouldn't help him," Morbius insists. "I... I was tortured. Sunlight, silver, garlic. I didn't want to keep living as this thing, but I couldn't die until I had made amends... for Martine." Morbius buries his head in his hands. "I didn't want to help him..."

"What about the serum?" I ask calmly. "Is it ready?"

Morbius shakes his head. "No." He stands a little straighter now. "I tried altering the formula, but Frost insisted on having it tested on live subjects. After the third failure, he caught onto my game. He had me monitored to ensure I tampered with it no further. But it's still not ready."

I let out a sigh of relief. That makes our jobs a whole lot easier. Without Morbius, there is no serum. And without the serum, there is no vampire army. "Doctor--"

"Call me Morbius."

"--Morbius, we have to make sure that Frost never completes that serum," I explain. "We need you to come with us."

"No. You don't understand. I was barely able to slip away. When Frost's men notice my absence, they will come looking for me," Morbius replies. "They will never stop chasing me."

"Then we'll hide you somewhere they'll never find you," Corben answers.

At that moment, Hannibal rushes into the room. Morbius jumps in surprise, but Hannibal ignores him and addresses us. "We have a problem. Frost's men? They noticed their missing scientist sooner than we hoped."

"You know this?"

Hannibal nods. "They're coming up the elevator right now. Five of them."

 

[bkhedr]

Tony continues to struggle with the monstrosity that attacked him. "Nggh" grunting with the effort, he manages to force his hand under its chin and push its face and teeth up and way from his.

SHREEE!

The full intensity repulsor blast slams into the beast's head and takes it clean off. The headless body thrashes violently, its claws making loud scraping noises against his armor before both he and it, hit the snow covered mountains with a bang.

"Ghn." Tony grunts as he sits up and pushes the mangled thing off of him. "So much for stealth."

He moves to one knee and looks the body over "Jarvis, give me a full scan."

"Working" The AI's artificial voice promptly responds "The creature is definitely extraterrestrial in origin. Scans also indicate that it may function as part of a hive mind collective."

"May?" Tony asks

"Indeed" Jarvis replies "The creatures' internal structure is suggestive of a hive mind but I'm afraid I can't be sure without the head."

"Of course." Tony comments, somewhat sarcastically as he climbs to his feet. "Well let's try to find out where it came from. Hopefully we'll be able to track it to a nest or something"

"Working."

While the AI examines his surroundings, Tony attempts to open a channel to the Symkarian Capital "Princess?"

Static answers.

"Princess Sablinova are you reading me?"

More static prompts Tony to switch to a back up channel

"Symkarian Capital Command this is Iron Man. Is anyone receiving this transmission?"

"Hmm." Tony makes a curious sound and turns his attention to starting a diagnostic scan of his armor's communication systems. The quick assessment confirms that all systems are operational but that something appears to be jamming his signal "Well, between that and the thing that attacked me, at least I know I'm in the right place."

A further check of his systems informs him that his armor's automated distress signal was sent out, just as it should, when he was attacked and pulled from the air, but now that signal too, had been cut off. Hopefully, someone had gotten it first.

"Warning. Multiple hostiles detected closing in on your position."

"Great." Tony sighs as he raises his palms and charges his weapons, such as they are. This armor could hold its own but it was never meant for a prolonged battle. He would just have to try to hold the line until help arrived.

"Just great." He adds as the buzzing of dozens of wings heralding an approaching swarm fills his ears.
​

 

[Carnage27]

​

The reporter sits on the opposite side of me, and smiles the polite smile of a professional. She squints at her notepad and looks over her notes, getting ready to start the interview. The breakthrough we made a few days ago brought the press, and this is the first interview we granted. The hometown Gotham Gazette. Fitting considering the situation.

"Ms. Isley," she begins.

"Oh, doctor, actually," I smile timidly.

"Doctor, of course," she responds, scratching off something on her notepad. "Doctor Isley, could you please give me a quick rundown of your research?"

"Of course. Basically, we're here to develop stronger, more resilient plant species using biochemistry and bioengineering. The plants of the world have been devastated by human and environmental changes. We're here to make plants strong enough to withstand disease, climate change, and pests in order to help feed the world and mitigate the effects of global warming. And hopefully, we can create plants that will eventually help us to colonize other planets."

"Impressive," the reporter says into her note pad. "Care to go into more depth?"

"Well, using pheromone and toxin manipulation which allows the plants to respond to environmental threats. Using it they can repel pest on their own as well as release more pollen when their population lowers to a certain point. Basically they take care of themselves."

"But couldn't that turn against us? Wouldn't they defend themselves against us?"

"Well, that was the problem we had before. It took us a while to crack that, but we've finally tuned the plants to a human presence, making them identify us as friendly. We can now move forward using these genes on crop plants. This could help us solve the hunger crisis," my enthusiasm and excitement can't help but show in my voice.

"That certainly is exciting," she smiles. "Now let's talk about how you got here. You were born and raised in Gotham, correct? Your family has been prolific in donating to many of the city's charities."

The talk of my family sours my mood, but I try to not let it affect my outer appearance. My family may donate to the city's charities, but they don't care about anything but their image.

"Well, my parents always instilled in me a sense of how lucky I was and that I should help those that are less fortunate. That's what I'm trying to do with my research."

Hardly. The only thing they taught me was how to fend for myself.

"And you knew Bruce Wayne when you were children, correct? That's how you got set up at Wayne Tech?"

"Mr. Wayne and I knew each other, yes," I nod. "But not very well. He barely remembered me when he saw my work. That's what got me this position, not my acquaintances."

That's not completely true. Bruce remembered me right away. The man must have a mind like a steel trap. But it was my research he was interested in. Not a friend.

"Well, I think that's all I need, Doctor," the reporter says as she stands. "Thank you for your time."

"Thank you, Miss Vale," I respond. "It's nice to get the word out about what we're doing here."

 

[Carnage27]

Quinjet
Symkaria Airpsace

"We're coming up on the signal," I say, looking up from the tracking monitor in the cockpit. But I don't need the monitor to see that. Up ahead, a swarm of those creatures we saw on the border are attacking an airborne target. One I can only assume is my teammate. "Coulson, fire on the ones around Iron Man, make sure not to hit him."

"Not even a few times by accident?" he asks, firing the main gun and dropping the bugs.

"We need to get him out of there," I say turning to the team, and really wishing I had Thor to send out there. Diana can fly, but she isn't the aerial combatant that the God of Thunder is.

But I don't have a choice, here.

"Diana, you need to get him. You're the only one that can fly."

She unsheathes her sword and smiles, "I've been waiting to try my skills against these beasts."

The back hatch opens, and Diana bursts through it, headed to save Iron Man.

Turning back to Coulson, I call, "Take us down. We need to try and draw some of them away from those two. Fight them on the ground."

We drop quickly, and the team is on the ground within seconds. I turn to Black Canary and nod to her, "Do it, kid. Full power."

She smiles and takes a deep breath, "SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

The full power of her scream blasts a group of them out of the sky, and more are turned towards us. I motion for the team to get in formation, "Tight formation, everyone. Don't stray. We stray, they pick us off one by one. We stay together, we live."
​

 

[Batman]

"Clark? Clark, honey, are you out there?"

Home.

On mornings like this, I begin to realize that I'll never get used to how noisy and crowded a place like Metropolis really is. It's got it's fair share of charm, sure, and I feel like I'm discovering new things about it to love every day. I'm also finding alot of things not to particularly care for. But here in Smallville, on the farm, where I can limit my hearing to the fields around me, catching nothing but the faint whispers of the local farmers and their families, I have to admit - it's almost hard for me to ever want to go back to the city. There's a serene peacefulness that washes over me as I watch the sun rise over the fresh wheat, taking in the fresh air unclouded by pollution. My childhood was spoiled by this place. And to be honest, after the last few weeks I've had, I don't mind admitting that. They were happier times.

It takes me a full minute to realize that Mom's calling me from the porch of the house. I turn back around from kneeling on the fence, almost instinctively feigning an obliviousness to her call, but she gives me a look that brings me right back around to when I was 10. She didn't buy it then, and she certainly doesn't buy it now. I smile back at her and nod, giving a light run towards the house. Shelby, the 6-year-old labradore that I urged Mom to buy whenever I decided to leave in order to give her some much needed company, runs up to me with a soggy foam ball that she dug from the fields. I chuckle, kneeling down to pick it up, and rub her ears.

"Arf!"

"Heh. Not now, girl. I'll toss it out on the way back, alright?"

She licks me across the face, and I have to practically fight her off in order to finally make it to the porch. Mom gives the dog a smirk, folding her arms as it begins to chase it's tail on the dirt road. It's an energetic thing to keep up with. I didn't take that into account whenever we were at the kennel. Guess I just figured after raising a boy who could lift a tractor on his thumb, she'd be used to it. But as much as I hate to admit it, the longer I stay in Metropolis, the more I'm starting to notice her age. It's been a long time since Dad died, even if it feels like only yesterday.

"I'm beginning to think that dog likes you more than me."

"She's just friendly. Probably treats all of your company the same way."

Mom laughs. "You should tell that to Ben Hubbard. The first time he came around, I had to put her in the barn, she was making so much of a racket."

I shrug. "Well, maybe just some company."

Handing me a basket and some paper bags, she leads me on the path to the cornfield, where we've been collecting fresh ears for the Fall harvest over the past week. In between my responsibilities as Superman, helping out around the world wherever I'm needed, I've been coming back and spending alot more of my time here lately. It brings back alot of memories, and most of them good. I guess that's why I haven't really settled into Metropolis, yet. Not too many good ones to make yet.

"You know, I spoke to Lana the other day over the phone. You'd be amazed at how much she's changed, Clark. So sophisticated, especially for her age. Ever since her mother passed, she's taken that company to bigger places. Hardly something I'd have expected out of someone who used to be as tall as my knee."

I give an off-look at the mention of Lana, hoping Mom doesn't notice. I know she doesn't mean anything by it, but it is a bit of a sore spot to bring up. The last time I spoke to Lana myself, it was waiting for the bus to the city. She didn't want to leave, and with Dad's death, I almost felt like I had to. I was meant to take my powers elsewhere, where I could do alot more good. The engagement didn't survive that decision, and in a way, I still blame myself.

"That's, um, great to hear. She always had a mind for that sort of stuff."

Picking off the first cobb, she begins to peel it, smiling back at me.

"Well, Lana Lang wasn't the only child in Smallville to go to greater places. Don't you forget that."

I return the smile. "Thanks. And I won't, m'aam. I promise."

Whenever she first heard about what I wanted to do, Mom wasn't nessecarily happy about it. Even if I could bounce bullets off of my skin, I guess she still had that overprotective quality that any mother has about their son. Telling myself that Dad would've understood was practically all that kept me from going back on the plan. But in time, she eventually accepted what Superman would eventually mean - if not for me, then for the lives I've tried to save. You couldn't have met a prouder woman the week after I helped avert the crisis with The Gorgon.

"Mom, I know you don't like to be brought into this stuff, but can I ask you something?"

"Clark Joseph, what have I been telling you your entire life?"

I shake my head. "I know. And I do wish I could talk to you about everything, but there's just some stuff that doesn't need to be brought up around here."

She turns, and narrows her eyes.

"Your father had a saying about that."

"Keeping secrets from the family were..."

"...were the burden of the prideful, not the men who could keep them together. After everything we've been through as a family, Clark, you don't need to be worried. There's nothing too big for me to handle anymore."

I take the corn as she hands it to me and place it in the basket.

"Does it bother you, having me around here now?"

She pauses.

"I mean, not that I've felt unwelcomed, but does it bother you?"

"What would make you say that?"

I sigh. "Honestly, I don't know. Maybe because it bothers me to be here. Haven't you wondered why I've been staying in my old room these past couple of weeks?"

"I did wonder that, at first. But I just assumed that you needed the time, so I never thought to ask. You did seem like you had alot on your mind when you got here."

"I have."

"Then what is it? Is it your father?"

I try not to say anything. She knows me a bit too well. Heck, that's hardly a surprise. She always has.

"Dad's part of it, I guess. But not the big reason. Have you ever wondered if your life hasn't gone the way you wanted it to?"

She starts to think. "Not in a very long time. But yes, I had similar thoughts once. Around the time that I married your father."

My eyebrow raises, and she laughs.

"Oh, no, no, no. Not the marraige itself. I never regretted a day of my life with him. But when we married, he had just settled on becoming a farmer. He was still trying to buy the property off of Jack Trevor, back when he was still living here, but I wasn't sure that I wanted that to be apart of my life aswell."

She takes another ear of corn, weighs it in her hands, and stares at it for a moment.

"It's funny. Now thirty years have gone by, and I can't imagine my life without it."

"What did you do?"

"Well, your father wasn't thrilled whenever I finally told him. But we worked it out. He sat me down, we talked for hours. And finally he made me a wager. If in one month after we had settled in I still felt the way that I did, we'd move away to Coast City and sell the farm. He was even prepared to get a job as a carpenter."

I simply stare back, stunned that I'm hearing all of this for the first time. This life that they'd built together, the one that I've always known... and it nearly didn't even happen? It's hard to believe, much less take in at first. Dad never seemed like the type to ever give up this place.

"So how long did it take you to change your mind?"

She smiles. "Three days."

"That's it?"

"That's it. Three days after we moved in, and Jonathan discovered me trying to plow the fields myself that morning. I didn't do a very good job, mind you..."

I chuckle.

"But that was enough to make me realize that sometimes, what you want in life isn't nessecarily what you need. I needed this farm. I still do, in some ways. Even after you left for Metropolis, I convinced myself that I'd never leave. Your father would have thrown a fit if he knew I were staying, but he'd have thought I were doing it for him. And that's not true at all. I came to love the farm just as much as he did."

I stare into the basket, unsure of what to say.

"Wow. Guess I just never figured..."

"Well, it was many years before we'd ever find you, of course. But Clark, what does all of this have to do with you? Have you been feeling that way?"

"In some ways, yeah. And I don't know how to shake the feeling."

"It's perfectly understandable, in your situation. I wouldn't rightly know myself, but I'm sure that saving the world on a regular basis has it's drawbacks."

I place the basket down, beginning to gather the leaves.

"Well, actually, it's not that part of my life that I've been wondering about. I feel perfectly content when I'm out there, trying to help others. It's the other part. The part where I come home, try to pretend that I've got other things to do, and end up realizing that I'm just going through the motions."

She shakes her head.

"Everyone goes through that when they've lost a job. I'm sure that by the time you find another..."

"I thought it was just the job, Mom. I really did. For the longest time, I felt like I just needed to fill a void and pass the time when I'm not being... somewhere else. But when I got the supermarket position, I realized that wasn't it at all. I..."

I don't look her in the eye when I say it.

"I feel like there's apart of me that's still missing."

I can tell that she isn't quite sure of what to make of that, but I had to get it out there. And it's the truth, I'm not just trying to save face for something else. I have been feeling that alot lately. My life as Superman has done amazing things for me, giving me alot to look fondly on already. The good I've been doing, the alliances I've made, I wouldn't trade any of it for the world. But when the costume comes off, I feel like there's nothing left of me to give.

And I don't want that. The suit doesn't define me any more than my abilities do. They're apart of me. The real trick is figuring out just what exactly the other part is. I have to be Clark Kent whenever I'm not wearing the cape. But figuring out his place in the world isn't nearly as cut and dry as I thought it'd be.

"Put the basket down. We'll come back to it later."

I look up as Mom leads me off, back to the house.

"What? But we just..."

"No, that can wait. What you need right now is exactly what your father always needed whenever he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. A nice glass of tea and a slice of pie."

"But..."

"March, young man!"

"Oh, lord..."

I try to hide the broadening grin on my face as we head back inside.

Like I told myself earlier. It's hard to turn away from this place. It's always been my home.

But I need to figure out how to make Metropolis just as much of one.

 

[bkhedr]

A barbed tail wraps itself tightly around Iron Man's throat from behind and forces his head up and back. The armor holds, so there's no danger of it cutting off his air supply but it throws him off balance and as he instinctively reaches up with his hands in an attempt to pry the tail loose, leaving his front exposed to attack.

"HAA!" Wonder Woman's battle cry comes just as her sword severs the offending tail. A short stab finishes the creature off while Tony, now free to focus on his front with a double repulsor blast that forces a trio of charging monsters to scatter.

Taking advantage of this momentary respite, Tony turns his attention to his savior

"Thanks Princess. They had me on the ropes there." He says, his eyes lingering on her figure.

"You're welcome Iron Man. But keep your eyes forward." She replies as one of the creatures tries to come at her from below only to be severed in half by her sword

"This battle's not over yet."

"Point" Iron Man says as he too, goes back on the offensive.

The creatures' are aggressive and deadly but the assembled Ultimates prove to be too much for them and after a few minutes they begin to fall back.

"They're retreating." Diana declares.

"Guess whoever's running this show decided he's had enough of us breaking his monsters." Tony says.

Diana moves to pursue but Tony holds his arm out in front of her. "No sense in letting them lead us into another ambush" He says, remembering how easily the first bug had been able to catch him unawares. "I'm tracking them. We can hit their base when we get the team together."

A few moments later and the team has gathered on the ground with the quinjet circling overhead.

​

 

[Byrd Man]

Thor looks at Hercules and finds the Olympian standing atop a large and growing pile of felled foes. Though prone to exaggeration, the Son of Zeus had spoke true when he said his hands were full. Even now another wave of invaders, seemingly undaunted by the deaths of their fellows, charge at him and Thor, turns his attention away from the grisly scene and towards the left where a massive centipede like monstrosity some 200 hundred feet in length, had burst through a wall and was even now bearing down on the heroes' position.

Tightening his grip on Mjolnir, Thor launches himself towards the beast. Hercules was right, better to focus on the battle at hand and leave the whys and wherefores of this invasion until the invasion had been repelled.

​

As Thor rushes at the giant monster, Johnny blasts by in a ball of flames. Baring his teeth, the Torch shot out a column of fire from his hands. The funnel struck the giant bug's head and engulfed it in flames. The monster roared and thrashed as it struggled to shake off the fire.

Below, Sue slammed an invisible construct into a group of advancing monsters. Flash raced by, punching out a dozen invaders with an extended fist.

"We need to figure out where these things ships are and push them back to it," Sue said, looking over her shoulder at Green Lantern.

*****
​

Reed spun through the vacuum of space, strapped to his ejector seat and his life support system failing. Off in the distance, he saw a brilliant flash of laser fire between two warships. An explosion lit up the darkness momentarily. The protective bubble protecting him flickered and started to disappear. Reed expanded his lungs and took a deep breath of the remaining oxygen. As his inertia from the ejection took him towards an enemy ship, the craft groaned and exploded outwards, a familiar figure ripping out from the hull.

"There you are, Stretch."

"I thought I lost ya."

Ben held his hand out, using the ring on his finger to create a projection. He wrapped Reed in another protective bubble, this one made of green energy.

"Ben," Reed said, exhaling in relief. He looked at his friend with a curious glance before looking at the bubble around him. "What are you wearing? What are you doing? What's this bubble."

"My ole Aunt Petunia always liked to say don't look a gift horse in the mouth. That's what I'm gonna do. This thing said I can overcome fear or something, so that's what I'm gonna do. C'mon, let's go."

Ben took off through space, towing Reed behind him with his ring.

 

[bkhedr]

As Thor rushes at the giant monster, Johnny blasts by in a ball of flames. Baring his teeth, the Torch shot out a column of fire from his hands. The funnel struck the giant bug's head and engulfed it in flames. The monster roared and thrashed as it struggled to shake off the fire.

Below, Sue slammed an invisible construct into a group of advancing monsters. Flash raced by, punching out a dozen invaders with an extended fist.

"We need to figure out where these things ships are and push them back to it," Sue said, looking over her shoulder at Green Lantern.

A bolt of lighting strikes the still thrashing giant bug, killing it instantly and reducing to a charred corpse which hits the ground with a thud only for wave after wave of invaders to stream over it and continue their assault while Thor grimly looks on.

"Susan speaks true Lantern." He says as he summons more lightning down on the invaders "These creatures seem to fear for their lives not at all, but if we can find and threaten their landing craft they might move to defend them, allowing us to go on the offensive."

"Then go Thor!" Hercules instructs as he hefts a boulder and tosses it, discus like, into the massed ranks of the enemy "The mortals and I will hold the line here."

Thor glances at Green Lantern, who nods, and the two take off, heading in the opposite direction of the advancing swarm.