The All-Star Marvel RPG: Season 1.5

[Byrd Man]

"Heavy." Crap, now Reed's got me saying it. Shaking my head to help all this new information process, I say, "So...are you, like, a god or something?" It's a crazy idea to wrap my head around, but it makes sense. Eternal existence, the power to alter time, omniscience...

"No, Jonathan. Not in the religious sense to which you are referring. I am merely the Watcher."

"Yeah, I got that part."

"So...why go to all this trouble? Why us?"

"Because....I have made a choice. I have watched Earth for millions of years. Humanity, for all its flaws, is worth saving. I will watch a mighty crisis affect Earth and I will stand by and record the destruction of your home planet. Humanity will take to the stars to search for a new home. Of the 6.8 billion people on Earth, only 2 million will make it off the planet before it is destroyed. I will record humanity's arrival to a new planet twenty years later, hardship and suffering will dwindle their population down to a mere 250,000. They will be easy prey for a race of aliens known as the Badoon. I will record the next four hundred years as humanity serves the Badoon as slave, and I will standby and watch as they fight for their freedom and throw off the shackles of oppression. By the time Kang is Minister of Time, the human race are bitter isolationists who live in fear of another alien invasion. All this pain and suffering, all of it traces back to one key moment in time."

"Us."

"Correct. With the four of you alive at the time of the crisis, humanity will survive intact."

"The powers? Where do they fit in?"

"After running countless simulations, I found the only way you stand a chance is to be...enhanced. I borrowed a gene treatment procedure from the Skrull race and bestowed each of you with your powers. You each represent the four keystone trademarks of Earth. Doctor Richards, slippery and fluid like water. Doctor Storm, invisible as the air. Jonathan Storm, burning as brightly as the flames of a volcano. And Benjamin Grimm, solid and rugged like the Earth itself."

"Okay, so something bad happens and we're needed for it. If you just watch.....why did you decide to action now?"

"Because, while I watch, I am not a slave to order like Kang. The things you perceive as fate and destiny, are just words. You are the masters of your own destiny and life, true sentient life, is worth fighting for. I am just leveling the playing field."

"What's coming?"

"A being, a powerful being. Like me, it was created for one purpose alone: to devour. It has consumed fifteen thousand worlds during its creation."

"And it's coming to destroy Earth?"

"Yes. First the Herald will come, followed by the Devourer. Galactus draws nigh, and you four are humanity's only hope."
​

 

[Eddie Brock]

The California coastline comes into view at last. The sun's just beginning to set, and I wonder just on whom it's setting - Obadiah or me. Obadiah possesses a brilliant, dangerous mind. He orchestrated his own escape. He eluded the authorities all this time. He broke into my home and disabled Jarvis, a supercomputer designed by none other than my father himself. And if Obadiah's showing his hand, it must mean he's ready for a showdown. And that thought terrifies me, because I'm more than aware of what Obadiah's capable of when he sets his mind to something.

No time for discretion. I land with a thud on my driveway. The front doors are open, inviting me to come inside to begin the end. This is it. The culmination of a year of work. I thought I had finally succeeded when I put Obadiah behind bars, but I know now that this is the endgame. Obadiah or me. This is the only way it could have ended.

"I put a lot of money into that house, Obadiah," I announce. "So as a favor between old friends, why don't you step outside? I'd hate to trash the place." I clench my fists, my palms vibrating as a repulsor blast charges.

Interestingly, though, it isn't Obadiah who comes to the door. It's Whiplash, or, rather, the man who's wearing the Whiplash armor. He stares at me blankly behind that metal faceplate, his whips crackling and sending sparks across the ground. "Obadiah's not here. He had other matters to attend to."

I scowl. Of course he did. One last hoop Obadiah expects me to jump through. "Is that so? Well, it's just us, then."

"Looks that way, doesn't it?"

Whiplash swings his arm. The six-foot whip catches me right across the chestplate. It sends electrical shockwaves across my armor, feels like licking a battery. It also leaves a little burn mark right across my chestplate. Since learning of the Whiplash armor, I've wondered how its namesake whips would fare against the alloy which compromises my armor. It's not exactly cutting through like a hot knife and butter, but I would venture a guess that I can't take too many clean shots like that.

I fire my repulsors at Whiplash, but he dodges at the last moment. The blast hits the door frame instead, blowing a hole right through the wall. Wonderful. I charge another blast, but Whiplash smacks my hands away with his whips. Every time he lands a hit, my suit locks up for a split second. The electricity coming from his whips must be short-circuiting my powercore.

I finally land a shot of my own, hitting Whiplash on the right arm and causing his whip to retract. I raise my hand to fire again when Whiplash swings his other whip at my head. It wraps all the way around, trapping me and cracking the glass lenses on my helmet. It also makes my systems go haywire as the electricity sends my suit into flux.

I grab Whiplash's whip and yank myself free. I've studied the Whiplash schematics top to bottom, and I know his weaknesses. I've gotta aim for the joints. With that in mind, I blast Whiplash where the shoulder meets the arm. He howls in pain. I blast him again on the right arm, hoping to disable that whip. Unfortunately, I only land a glancing blow.

Whiplash hits me in the chestplate again. This time, the whip starts to cut into the metal. My alloy's starting to give. I have to end this. Redirecting full power to my uni beam, I blast Whiplash with the maximum force my suit will allow. It dents his chestplate and cracks his powercore. I walk over to him and stomp on his gauntlets. His whips go dark and stop crackling.

Removing his faceplate, I see that the pilot of the Whiplash armor is Vic Martinelli, former head of Stark security. He was released months ago following a sexual harassment scandal, and I guess that's when Obadiah recruited him.

"Oh, Tony, if you're done with Martinelli, you might want to come down to Stark Enterprises."

Obadiah's uplink to my helmet is still live. But how did he know I was done with Whiplash? Turning over Whiplash's faceplate in my hands, I see that he was outfitted with a similar HUD to my own. Guess Obadiah was watching a live feed from Whiplash's eyes.

"By the way, Ms. Potts dropped by your house while I was there. I took the liberty of bringing her along for the festivities."

I crush Whiplash's faceplate. Obadiah has Pepper.
​

 

[Eddie Brock]

"Because....I have made a choice. I have watched Earth for millions of years. Humanity, for all its flaws, is worth saving. I will watch a mighty crisis affect Earth and I will stand by and record the destruction of your home planet. Humanity will take to the stars to search for a new home. Of the 6.8 billion people on Earth, only 2 million will make it off the planet before it is destroyed. I will record humanity's arrival to a new planet twenty years later, hardship and suffering will dwindle their population down to a mere 250,000. They will be easy prey for a race of aliens known as the Badoon. I will record the next four hundred years as humanity serves the Badoon as slave, and I will standby and watch as they fight for their freedom and throw off the shackles of oppression. By the time Kang is Minister of Time, the human race are bitter isolationists who live in fear of another alien invasion. All this pain and suffering, all of it traces back to one key moment in time."

"Us."

"Correct. With the four of you alive at the time of the crisis, humanity will survive intact."

"The powers? Where do they fit in?"

"After running countless simulations, I found the only way you stand a chance is to be...enhanced. I borrowed a gene treatment procedure from the Skrull race and bestowed each of you with your powers. You each represent the four keystone trademarks of Earth. Doctor Richards, slippery and fluid like water. Doctor Storm, invisible as the air. Jonathan Storm, burning as brightly as the flames of a volcano. And Benjamin Grimm, solid and rugged like the Earth itself."

"Okay, so something bad happens and we're needed for it. If you just watch.....why did you decide to action now?"

"Because, while I watch, I am not a slave to order like Kang. The things you perceive as fate and destiny, are just words. You are the masters of your own destiny and life, true sentient life, is worth fighting for. I am just leveling the playing field."

"What's coming?"

"A being, a powerful being. Like me, it was created for one purpose alone: to devour. It has consumed fifteen thousand worlds during its creation."

"And it's coming to destroy Earth?"

"Yes. First the Herald will come, followed by the Devourer. Galactus draws nigh, and you four are humanity's only hope."
​

"The Devourer?" I smirk. "I know Ben's got a big appetite, but I'd hardly call him the Devourer."

Ben gives me a dry look. "Really? What happened to 'Ben, I'm sorry. You're the brother I never had.'?"

I shrug. "My life's not in danger, anymore."

"On the contrary, Jonathan, if you fail to stop the Devourer, then your life will very much be in danger. As will the rest of the planet."

"Oh."

 

[Byrd Man]

"The Devourer?" I smirk. "I know Ben's got a big appetite, but I'd hardly call him the Devourer."

Ben gives me a dry look. "Really? What happened to 'Ben, I'm sorry. You're the brother I never had.'?"

I shrug. "My life's not in danger, anymore."

"On the contrary, Jonathan, if you fail to stop the Devourer, then your life will very much be in danger. As will the rest of the planet."

"Oh."

"How much time is there to prepare for this...uhh, thing?"

"I am not certain. The changes I have made have clouded the near future. Rest assured, Galactus and the herald will arrive soon. The herald always precedes the Devourer. When it appears, you shall know that Galactus will not be far behind. That is all I can say for now, since I have kept you long enough. I believe there will be punishment for what I have done. I have broken my code, defied by orders. But if you manage to defend Earth, then my effort will not be fruitless. Much depends on you four. Good luck."

Sue, Johnny, and Ben all disappear in a white light. Only I'm left alone with the Watcher.

"There is one final message. It is only for your ears, Doctor."

The Watcher leans in and whispers gently into my ear.

"His name will be Franklin."

Before I can attempt to make sense of that, I'm gone in the same white light. The next moment I fall flat on my back on the Baxter Building roof.

"Thank God!" Sue says as she helps me up. "I was so worried when you didn't appear with the rest of us."

I wrap my arms around Sue and look over at Ben and Johnny. Ben looks uncertain and nervous and Johnny, even through his postering and calm persona, he looks a bit rattled. Lots of information to take in, and a lot is now riding on the four of us.

"Sue?" I ask. "Would you like to get married?"

"....You mean like now?"

"As soon as possible. The four of us seem to be living on borrowed time as it is."

I look up into the sky. Even through the bright lights of New York, the stars are shining through.

"We need to take every moment we can to enjoy life and get ready for what's coming. Galactus is coming....and with him comes nothing but death and destruction. It's up to us to save Earth. This isn't fighting an old college roommate over a meteorite, or going back in time to save a scientist. Billions of lives are at stake."

"We'll be ready, Reed."

"I'm looking forward to kicking this thing back into whatever pissant world it crawled out of. And it won't be Reed that stops it. Won't be me. Or Sue. Or Ben. It'll be the four of us. All together."

"The four of us together? Hell, bring on a whole army of Galactus mooks.We can take 'em. That's because we're fantastic."

I catch Ben's eye and notice the small twinkle in it.

"Here's to being fantastic, Reed," Ben says as he holds his rocky fist out.

"To being fantastic," I say as I put my smaller fist up to his.

"To being fantastic." Sue puts her fist up against mine and Ben's. We all turn to Johnny, who looks at us for a second before shrugging and placing his fist in with ours.

"To being fantastic."

The Watcher did more than give us our lives back, he gave us family. That's what we are. We support each other, good times and bad, and always look out for each other when the going gets tough. The government calls us a team, the public calls us the Fantastic Four. But to the four of us, we're family.

So let Galactus come, I'm looking forward to it. With these three people at my side, I can do anything. With them I think I actually live up to my nickname of Mr. Fantastic.

Here's to being fantastic.

*********


​

Orion Nebula

The garden world known as Synacord 7 was once a healthy and populated planet, filled with animal life of all different kinds. Now, 96.8% of the world's population were dead. Only a handful of living creatures were still alive, although they only had a few minutes remaining.

Gasping for oxygen and trying to navigate through the smog filled air, the animal that resembled a mix between a duck and ostrich, gave out a loud yelp when it saw the massive figure in the sky. The large object blotted out Synacord 7's sun as it began the final stages of the process. The process, know as the devourering, was only five minutes long. In that time, the figure drained Synacord 7 of the few natural recourses it had left. The ostrich/duck animal died soon after the start of the procedure after what little air was sucked dry.

The figure detached from Synacord 7's orbit and left as the planet, now nothing but a dry and empty husk, collapsed on itself and turned into rubble. The figure navigated through space, setting a new course. Once the course was set, a silver projectile flew from the figure and disappeared into hyper space as soon as it was clear.

The figure floated through space, preparing to slumber and convserve energy until it was time to make the leap. The herald would send word and when it did, Galactus would make the leap to its next target.

The course was set. In one of the Milky Way's outer spiral arms sat the star system known as Sol. It was the third planet from the star that had the Devourer's eye.

Earth, as it was known locally, was teeming with sentient life. It's been years since it had devoured a planet with life that wasn't anything but animals and bacteria. It was the planets with large populations and self-aware lifeforms that made the best conquests. Galactus prepared for its sleep with only one thought on its mine:

Earth would make a fine meal indeed.​

 

[Andy C.]

".........she dumped me."






I'm sitting at the foot of the bed in the hotel room that Norman reserved for Harry and me since he needed the penthouse to himself, at almost 2:30 in the morning, staring in a near catatonic state as I stare at the text message I received about an hour ago from Mary Jane.

I think we should just be friends, it says. Sorry, Tiger.

I just spent my day helping free the city from the clutches of the mob, helping bring in the city's most infamous crime bosses. My body is covered in cuts and bruises. My costume is ruined beyond repair. I can't move without hurting somewhere....

.....and Mary Jane dumped me. Via text.

I flop backwards onto the bed, trying not to disturb Harry and Liz in the next bed over (man, Norman would probably blow a gasket if he knew Harry snuck his girlfriend in here), and spend the rest of the night tossing and turning and aching, both from the ass-kicking I took from the Big Man and the other mob bosses, and from the cold knife that MJ just stuck through my heart.



School the next day is just surreal. In some ways, everything is different now, and some ways everything's back to normal. I see Mary Jane reunited with her flock of popular girls, and try not to just burst into tears when she runs to Flash Thompson's arms.

"God, this is brutal," I mutter to Harry as we watch Midtown's most beautiful couple reunited.

"I'll say," Harry says, rolling his eyes at the whole thing. "The school's just littered with broken hearts today--word on the street is that Gwen broke up with Eddie last night too. She wouldn't say why, but they're definitely over."

"Thank God for that," I say, sighing in relief for my friend. "She deserves better than that jackass."

Speaking of said jackass, it isn't long before Eddie comes down the hallway towards me, a murderous look in his eyes.

"One of these days, Parker," he growls under his breath as he passes me by, "you're a dead man."

He brushes past and goes to talk to Flash and MJ, but they just stare daggers at him.

"Hey, um, I know what you heard about last night, and--"

"Don't even talk to me, Brock," Flash cuts him off. "That's just not cool."

Mary Jane doesn't say anything, but gives him a poisonous look that could rival even the dreaded Stacy Stink-Eye. Once he realizes his clique has shunned him, Eddie slinks away in shame. Jeez, what did he do that's got everyone so mad at him?

"Hi, Peter," Gwen says from behind me. I turn to see her, and she looks better than she has in months. I can still see heavy bags around her eyes from sleep deprivation and what I can only assume were an awful lot of tears, but the way she carries herself, the gleam in her eyes....she's finally got her groove back.

"I'll, um, I'll give you guys a little alone-time," Harry says as he heads to class.

"So, I, um.....I heard you broke up with Eddie," I stammer. "I'm really sorry things didn't work out between you two."

"Don't be," she says, shrugging it off. "You were right about him. He was only dating me for one thing, and it wasn't my brains or my personality. I'm still kind of ashamed I even said yes to him in the first place."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, you were right about Mary Jane, too," I say as I glance over to the redhead down the hall with her new old boyfriend. "She was just playing with me to teach her boy-toy a lesson. And when I didn't amuse her anymore, she threw me away."

".....being right sucks, doesn't it?"

"Yeah.......yeah, it does."

There's a long pause before Gwen breaks the silence.

"Still, it's not the end of the world, right? I mean.....Mary Jane isn't the only girl out there...."

"I guess there are other fish in the sea," I say as I get my books from my locker, "but I get the feeling I'm gonna have to settle for fiddling with my rod for a while."

"Don't be gross," she says, slapping me on the arm.

"You know, you two are just depressing," Mary Jane interrupts our banter, dragging Flash along with her.

"Well that was fast," I mutter, staring at the floor so I don't have to look at her. "I was your boyfriend yesterday, and you're already back to cutting me down in front of Flash again?"

"I'm not cutting you down, Tiger, I'm trying to help," she scolds me. "This is why I couldn't keep dating you: you're too repressed, always dancing around what it is you actually want. And I hate to say it, but you've got the same problem, Gwen. You want my advice? If you've got something you want to say, then just come out and say it."

With that, MJ leaves, and Flash looks over his shoulder back at me.

"No hard feelings, right Parker?" he asks with a cocky grin.

"....right," I say, fuming as I watch him walk off with my girl, before turning back to Gwen. "So what do you think she meant by that?"

"I, um....I wouldn't know," she says, her face a little red. "Oh! I got a copy of Capcom vs DC 3 as one of my birthday presents. You want to come over after school and try it out?"

"Sure, that actually sounds pretty awesome," I say with a smile. Honestly, I missed this, just being able to hang out with my best friend and nerd it up, without some big elephant in the room. "After the big battle I had last night, I could probably use an afternoon off from my, um....my usual extracurricular activities."

Gwen nods, then has a light bulb go off in her head.

"Speaking of that! I, um, I have a surprise for you," she says sheepishly. "I think you're really going to like it...."



******


After school lets out, I'm downstairs in Gwen's basement with my underwear around my ankles.

....because, you know, the thing won't fit over my boxers.

"So this fits like that," I talk out loud while I pull the skin-tight outfit up. "Okay, and that's how I fit the web-shooters in...."

"How's it going in there?" Gwen asks from the other side of the curtain.

"Almost ready," I say, pulling the garment up so I can fit my arms in.

I have to say, she's really outdone herself this time. I thought I looked cool with just the black hoodie and ski goggles, but this? Now I look awesome. More than that, I look downright heroic.

Another success from Gwen Stacy: Girl Genius.

"Okay, here we go," I say as I pull the new mask over my face, then pull back the curtain.

"Well? What do you think?"

Gwen smiles, beaming with pride as she looks over the costume.....then she looks down and her face goes as red as my new mask.

"I, um.....*ahem* I think you might want to put on a jockstrap before wearing that in public."

"Huh? What do you.......oh, man!"

I'll bet Captain America never accidentally terrified his friends with his unsightly skin-tight crotch bulge.
​

 

[Byrd Man]

Silvio Manfredi, better known as Silvermane, woke with a sudden start. He was tied up and stripped to just his underwear. His elderly and frail body broke out in goosebumps in the chilly night air.

He was in a single spotlight, surrounded by darkness all around. His nearly nude body was hanging from the rafters of an abandoned and empty factory building.

"Wh-where..."

"You're in hell," a powerful voice said, cutting through the eerie silence and paralyzing the crime boss with fear. "And it's a hell of your own making. This is your life, Silvermane."

"Silvio Alberto Manfredi, born in the Sicilian countryside in 1946," a deep voice said. "Immigrated to New York with parents Vito and Carmella in 1948."

"Grew up in the streets of Brooklyn," an additional voice from behind Silvermane said. "Grew up tough, too. By the age of twelve, he was already running with the local tough guys. He may have not been as hard as them, but he always prescribed to the method of faking it until you make it."

"Became an associate of the Rosetti Crime Family in 1964," another voice, so close to Silvermane that he swore the man was right next to him, said. "Boosting stolen merchandise out of JFK Airport. He made his bones in 1967 by killing a union official who was an FBI informant."

"Then there was the murder of a con man in 1968," a female voice chimed in. "A fellow associate of the Rosetti Crime Family, he was believed to be skimming money from the family."

"Sworn in as a made man in the Rosetti organization in 1970. From there?"

"Homie climbed the ladder. First it was a soldier, then a capo-"

"Then he became the underboss for the family in 1979 when the underboss at the time mysteriously disappeared. His body was never found."

"From his seat of power, the prematurely gray haired Manfredi, or Silvermane as he was now dubbed, oversaw all the activities of the Rosetti Family. Drugs, prostitution, extortion, and blackmail. The man did it all. In addition to that, he conspired and carried out murders in 1982-"

"'83-"

"'84-"

"'85 through '90-"

"****, dude was responsible for fifteen murders in '91 alone."

"Then comes the time in 1992 when Silvermane got tired of taking orders from Old Man Rosetti."

"He took a small faction from the Rosetti Family and made his move."

"June 16th, 1992 was the day that Rosetti, all his capos, lieutenants, and advisors were gunned down all across New York. All told, ten murders in one night."

"The only high ranking official from the Rosseti Organization to make it out alive just so happened to be Silvermane. The same man who took over and remade the Rosetti Family in his image."

"Fast forward fifteen years and nearly a dozen murders later, the FBI finally manages to charge the crime lord with racketeering, conspiracy, and a laundry list of charges."

"But, like always, Silvermane ducks the charge. The jury pool is tampered with after four jurors are threatened, and a mistrial is declared. Before jury selection can begin again, the federal judge overseeing the new trial is killed in a car bomb."

"The state and city of New York drop their charges, and the Feds eventually end up having a weak-sister trial with a scared judge and jury. No surprise, but he's acquitted of all charges."

"Gotta say, this is one fortunate guy."

"Oh, yeah. Well, we skip ahead to a few months ago. Mister Silvermane starts to feel the heat from an upstart vigilante group so he employs an assassin to dispatch them."

"She manages to kill two of them, but that's because she got the jump on them and killed them before they had a chance to defend themselves."

"When she went up against the group again, they sent her packing. And then, feeling the heat from the other bosses in New York, Silvermane decides to try and consolidate his power base anyway he could."

"So he agreed to go to a summit meeting with other crime lords, hoping that he could band together and rule New York once again."

"Which brings us to tonight," the voice said as its owner stepped into view. The man in the devil suit twirled a billy club in his left hand with uncanny speed. "Nearly a hundred murders, countless lives ruined, and for what? Money? Power? Respect?"

"You don't understand," Silvermane said as he snapped form his paralysis. "It was just business."

"I understand all about business. Your business was death, pain, and destruction. My business is justice."

Suddenly, four additional people in Devil suits stepped into view. Each of them wielding a weapon.

"No...you superpeople ain't like this! You tie bad guys up and leave 'em at the police station! You can't do this! You gotta let me stand trial!"

"You did that already. Judge Akins' car blowing up in the middle of Midtown made sure it would never be a fair one. There are many types of justice. Legal justice, poetic justice, and our favorite kind: absolute justice."

"No! No! **** it! Go ahead, kill me. Put a bullet in my brain and do me."

"No. That's too good for you. We're going to make you feel each and every bad thing you've ever done."

The five vigilantes closed in tight around Silvermane.

"This is your life, Silvermane.....and this is your death."

The Devil swung first, striking Silvermane with his billy club and shattering his jaw. The rest followed suit, attacking the defenseless crime lord who screamed in pain and begged for mercy.

 

[Eddie Brock]

JEAN GREY

Following Scott's declaration of independence from HAMMER, the Mansion has been hectic - to say the least. Lines have been drawn, allegiances declared, and we're all trying to cope with the aftermath of our decision. Of course, I've left Scott to handle most of the day-to-day decision making. I've spent most of my time trying to recuperate from my time in captivity. Specifically, I've been trying to understand the cryptic message Professor Xavier left me from beyond the grave.

It's been hard to find quiet times to meditate in the privacy of my own room, but even when I have, my efforts have been fruitless. I spend so much of my time sifting through the minds of others that searching my own feels unnatural. For the life of me, I can't figure out how - or more importantly why - the Professor was able to leave his "psychic imprint." And without the ability to consciously access it, I'll never know what he was trying to tell me.

In the meantime, I've re-dedicated myself to explore the growing extent of my own power. Whether it's the natural progression of my abilities or the result of psychological stress from my time as a captive, my power seems to be growing exponentially with every day. I've withheld this information from everyone - even Scott. I don't think it's the wisest course of action to tell them something's going on until I understand it myself.

My telepathic range is greater than ever before. I woke one morning hearing the thoughts of a Cuban man echoing in my head. When I focused even harder, I heard a little girl praying in Brazil. Their thoughts were muffled, like listening underwater, but still to think that I can reach out so far is astounding.

Today, I've decided to test how my telekinesis might have been affected. I begin by practicing with a glass of water. It's an old training exercise I used to do with the Professor. Moving a solid object telekinetically isn't particularly difficult. That's why I'm able to send the glass floating around the room. However, trying to control the liquid inside poses a challenge. I must focus on every drop of water. I suspend the water in the air in a little orb, just like I've always practiced.

Concentrating even harder, I try to slow the individual water molecules. At first, there's no discernible change, but after a minute or so of concentrating, the molecules come to a stop. The orb of water freezes into a spherical chunk of ice. In my excitement and surprise, I let it fall to the floor, where it shatters.

Picking up the pieces of broken ice, I decide to try taking it the other way. With my mind, I vibrate the still water molecules until the ice melts. Reconstructing my water orb, I don't still vibrating the molecules. After a minute, the orb gives a soft hiss as the water is converted to steam.

This kind of precise control and power is more than I've ever experienced, yet I still feel like I can do more. I hold the steaming water vapor in place and manage to bring it back to liquid form. The orb is a little smaller as I lost some of the particles. I close my eyes and double my efforts. I picture the water orb in my mind. I picture the individual water molecules. I picture the bonds holding the hydrogen and oxygen atoms together.

I open my eyes to the soft sound of releasing gas. To my amazement, the water orb simply disappears. My God! I separated the atoms, making pure hydrogen and oxygen gas!

At that point, my decision to keep my expanding powers a secret is reaffirmed. Telepathic range which can span the hemisphere? Telekinetic control on the atomic level? This sort of thing terrifies me, so I can imagine what others would think! I have to understand what's going on better, but I have a bad feeling the only man who could tell me is dead. Unless Magneto wasn't bluffing.

That night, I sleep as soundly as I have in weeks, images of dancing flames bouncing in my head.

​

 

[J'adore]

Wanda Harkness. For years now, she believed that Agatha Harkness, the great witch of Wundagore, was her only remaining family member. However, the pale-colored witch had origins from an elder jewish man. A man, who believed in rioting. A man who believed in mutant supremicy. Magneto. The very man Scarlet had only previously encountered. She had only found out a few months back, that Magneto himself was the father of the witch. But then...During the X-Men's ill fated fight with the Brotherhood, a man, who's features sharp and swift just like Wanda's, attacked them. Magneto seemed to treat the operative rather differently...Slightly more warming. Would it be possible, that a cross breed witch and mutant, had a brother...a twin brother, with the power of Celerity? <"No. That is highly unlikely, my dear. I was the one who gave birth to you. It was only during a brief stint with Magneto you were created. There was no such son inside of me...">

<"You raised me as a witch, Agatha. You neglected to tell me that my father, was a powerful, mutant. Now you dare cover up yet another scandal!? My work for Magneto, my loyalty to him, was born from the villanous upbringing you gave me...Now that there may be a slight hint of another form of family out there, I would like to cease this chance.">

The female's exchanged strong words in russians, Agatha Harkness moving closer towards Wanda, her long robes dragging against the dusty cave floors. They moved in sync, their positions swiftly changing. Agatha raised her creased, right hand, up to shoulder length. A purple cloud slowly eminated from the witch's hands, taking form of a male figure. The purple smoke slowly started to clear up, engulfing Scarlet's eyes. It was Quicksilver, who stood before her. "Indulge the image, Wanda...For now, we must banish this soul from ever meeting you again..."

Feeling a slight hypnotic gaze come ove her, Scarlet slowly began to repress the feeling. She felt a strong hand grasp her shoulder, and pull her back from the smoke. She turned around, to face Magneto. "My daughter stays with me."

"Somehow, I knew this day would come..." Her words now in english, Agatha stepped back, slowly making her distance from the powerful Mutant. Magneto had a firm grip around Wanda's shoulder, slowly moving his cap around her. Agatha could sense a form of protection over come the two.

"Magneto told me the truth, Agatha. You are no more than a lying, pathetic old woman, who wanted nothing more than an Apprentice! Well, I congratulate you, Agatha. You have taught me well."

Wanda stretched out her gloved arm, a powerful force shining through the mutant's eyes. A crimson glow exploded from her palms, slowly beggining to bubble under the witch's influence. As the cave slowly began to shake, rocks flew off the walls, surrounding all three of them. Magneto stepped back, his eyes widening in shock.

The crimson light became brighter and brighter, a loud, screeching sound booming across the cave. Agatha's body had slowly began to vibrate, a smirk creeping up upon her face. She moved in motion with the cave, Magneto's balance trembling as Scarlet began to become more and more out of control. It was hazardous. "Be careful Erik...She's a powerful one...&#1055;&#1091;&#1089;&#1090;&#1100; &#1074;&#1077;&#1076;&#1100;&#1084;&#1072; &#1089;&#1090;&#1088;&#1072;&#1076;&#1072;&#1090;&#1100;!" Agatha's last words were a powerful screech.

BE CAREFUL!

And with those screams spoken, the light exploded, and with it, the cave. It collapsed on itself, rocks falling slowly, yet at a sharp movement. The sound overcame both the remaining mutants...And soon only rubble was left.

---

"Scarlet!? Wanda!? Wanda!?" Magneto awoke to the Brotherhood base. His long, flowing cape, torn to shreds. In his hands, lay an unconcious Wanda. Her nose released a heavy stream of blood and her ears slowly released droplets of the thick, red liquid.

"Help! Someone! My daughter!"

"My daughter!"

​

 

[Byrd Man]

Now

The bald headed man in the suit lit up another cigarette, his fourth one in the past thirty minutes. He was really trying to quit the cancer sticks all together, but tonight required long hours, and long hours translated to as much nicotine and caffeine as he could pump into his veins. It was nearly two in the morning, but he was running on pure adrenaline now. The lighter he used to fire up his latest smoke was shaky in his hands.

"Sergeant," a voice said from behind.

NYPD Detective Sergeant Lester Poindexter turned to face the man in charge of tonight's three-ring circus, Captain George Stacy. It was his bust tonight, Poindexter was called in after the suspect was in NYPD custody. "A few of my detectives were able to follow eyewitness reports and a blood trail to some abandoned warehouse in the Kitchen. We busted in and found a badly beaten body that's probably Silvermane. SWAT only managed to catch one. He's waiting for you," Stacy said as he handed Poindexter a single sheet of paper.

"That all?" Poindexter asked in between puffs of his smoke. "Just a name, age, and address."

"That's all I was willing to take," Stacy said with a shrug. "You're the primary on the case, so I thought it'd be best to not step on your toes. Also informed him of all his rights. Got him to sign the sheet that says he was advised of all his rights. I know some about him and his people, but you're the expert."

Poindexter nodded and flicked his cigarette ashes into a nearby ashtray. The two men were on the fifteenth floor of NYPD's headquarters at 1 Police Plaza. Floor fifteen housed Stacy, twenty detectives, four sergeants, two lieutenants, and the inspector who oversaw the operations of NYPD's Major Case Squad. Poindexter was not among them, working out of the 20th precinct that covered parts of northern Midtown, most of Chelsea, and all of Hell's Kitchen. Poindexter was down at 1PP tonight on Kitchen business.

"Just point me to where he's at."

Stacy led the way past rows of cubicles and offices to a two-way mirror. On the other side of the glass was an interrogation room where a large black man sat in a metal chair, his left arm handcuffed to a metal table in front of him. He was stripped down to his underwear, all his other clothing was being processed by evidence control in the basement sixteen floors below.

"Alright," Poindexter said, tossing what was left of his cigarette into a nearby trash can. "I'll see what I can get."

Stacy nodded and watched the detective open the interrogation room door and go in. The man looked up as he entered, but remained motionless. He kept his eyes on the detective, watching the man as he sat down in a chair on the other side of the table.

"Cigarette?" Poindexter asked, pulling a half smoked pack from his front coat pocket. The man shook his head. "So," Poindexter started. "For starters, let's have your name, DOB, and address."

"My name is Lucas Carlton Cage. Born 6/23/75. My address is 05156, 125th Street, apartment 3C."

"Okay....," Poindexter said, unsure of where to go. "What else can you tell me?"

"I'm the man you looking for," he said without hesitation. "I'm him."

"Who?"

"The Devil," Cage said. "All those murders, beatings, and attacks? That was me."



Two Hours Earlier

The Devils stood over the beaten and bloody body, watching Silvermane's last few breaths of life gurgle away. Breathing was even a hard task after what the group had just done. His nose was beaten to the point where the cartilage had snapped off on one side, all the teeth in his mouth were either missing, cracked, or broken. Silvermane's jaw hung limp on his chin, dislocated and shattered on the left side. All his ribs were broken, as were both his arms, legs, shoulders, and knees.

"Six," the Devil fiinally said after listening to Silvermane's rasping for a solid minute. "Our friend on the floor wanted us to put a bullet in his head. Oblige him, please."

"Sure thing, boss," Frank Brubaker said casually. Pulling a pistol from the small of his back, he aimed and squeezed the trigger. The gun kicked and Silvermane's brains splattered on the cement floor a half second later.

"Justice is served," the Devil said coldly. "Two and Three, I want you to take the body back to his fancy Washington Square Park home. Dump the body on the steps."

"You got it," Luke Cage said. Before he or Shang Chi could even begin to start their job, floodlights suddenly appeared through the windows of the rundown factory the group called home.

"Attention!" A voice boomed from outside. "This is the NYPD. We know you're in there. Come out with your hands up."

A collective look of shock and surprise were on each of the five Devils' faces. Three years in this location, nobody had ever found the abandoned factory they called home.

"What do we do?" Dakota North asked, panic creeping into her voice.

"You got twenty seconds," the voice on the bullhorn outside said. "Come out with your hands up or we send in SWAT to get you."

"Does everyone remember the fall back spot we set up?" The Devil asked.

They all nodded and replied yes to the question.

"Two hours," the Devil said.

Turning away from his followers, he disappeared into the few shadows that the room had left after the invasion of the floodlights. "You heard the man," Cage said. "Two hours, now let's move!"

"Alright, time's up," the bullhorn outside said.

A window shattered from across the room and a canister rolled across the floor, gas pouring out of it.

"Tear gas," Chi announced. "Move, fast!"

The four Devils ran through the gas, shielding their eyes and mouths. A door cracked open and heavily armored police officers filed into the empty factory.

"Up the stairs!" Cage shouted. The four cut right and climbed the stairwell to the roof, taking two steps at a time. Cage was the last one to exit the stairwell. "Get going," he said as he began to secure the door leading to the roof. "I'll secure this the best I can to hold 'em up. You three get outta here."

"Hurry up," Chi said with a scowl. Cage was in the process of locking it when the battering ram knocked him off his feet. Cage was down, but not out. He leaped back up, choke-slamming a fully armored SWAT officer to the ground and clothe- lining another one.

"Get going!" He shouted to the other three. He turned to look at his fellow Devils. "I got this, now go, motherfu-" he was suddenly cut off when a gun butt struck him in the back of the head, knocking his limp body to the ground.

"No!" Chi shouted. North and Brubaker tugged at his arms, attempting to pull him away from the scene.

"We gotta go," Brubaker said with a growl. "C'mon, man!"

Finally pulling him away, the four jumped across the gap between buildings and began running away from their former home as SWAT and Stacy's MCS detectives began searching.



Now

"What?" The Devil asked, the agitation and anger in his voice was unmistakable. "Where is he?"

"We don't know, man," Brubaker said. "Last we seen, cops were pinning him to the ground, ripping off his mask."

The four remaining Devils were hidden in the shadows of St. Patrick's cathedral, their fall back spot in case of emergency.

"This isn't right," Chi said. "He didn't deserve this. Luke didn't deserve this!"

A hushed silence fell on the group. A look of severe regret appeared on Chi's face.

"What was that?" The Devil asked. If possible, he sounded even more angrier than before. "How do you know his name?"

"I know who Luke is," Chi said. "I know it's against your little rules, but you can't do the things we've done and not get to know the man you're fighting with. The man you're killing with."

"These rules are in place for a reason," The Devil said sternly. "You know his name, he knows yours. We know each other in our real life, then we become easier to find, easier to arrest and kill."

"Yeah," Brubaker said. "You know the man has a point?"

"Shut the hell up," Chi growled. "What do you know? After all, you and North are ****ing, right?"

"What?!" The Devil said, turning his head towards Six and Seven. "You're sleeping together?!"

"Yeah," Brubaker said. "What you gonna do? Kick us out of your little murderin' club?"

"It's not like that," the Devil said. "We bring justice, we don't kill."

"Well, what the hell do you call tonight?! All I seen was a **** load of killing."

"Those men deserved what they got."

"And what do we deserve?" Chi asked."Sure we're hiding under the banner of justice and vengeance, but we're no better than the scum we kill."

"The point isn't to be better," the Devil said. "The point is making them pay. I don't care if it makes me worse than them, they have to pay for their crimes."

"Doesn't matter," Brubaker said, a ruthless grin beginning to form on his face. "We can kill a million bad guys....it won't bring Momma Grace back..."

"What did you say?"

"Oh, yeah. You like to check up on us? Spy on us? You're so damned arrogant, doesn't even occur to you we would do the same. I've been keeping this secret about nine months now, but boy is it juicy."

"What are you talking about?" North asked with a puzzled look.

"But then again, guess it wasn't that hard to spy on you, was it?"

"Quiet," the Devil hissed. "Not. Another. Word."

"He cares about justice, alright. That's because justice is blind. Like he is. Isn't that right, Mister Murdock? He's as blind as a bat. Ain't that some ****? The Devil of Hell's Kitchen, the one that has the underworld shaking in their alligator loafers....is nothing but a goddamn cripple."

The Devil let out a primal scream as he attacked, punching Brubaker in the jaw and kneeing him in the throat. He gasped for air and fell to the ground. The Devil pounced, leaping on top of Brubaker and driving his fist into his face. Brubaker's nose was broken and he had a molar knocked out before Chi and North could pull him off.

"Get off of me," the Devil growled. "The three of you, get away from me. You all make me sick. Murders, thieves, and blackmailers. You don't deserve to wear those uniforms. You're not Devils, you'll never be Devils again. I come across any of you on these rooftops again, I won't hesitate to do what needs to be done."

Backing away from the three, the Devil stepped back into the shadows and disappeared.


One Hour Later
Istanbul

Bullseye had moved on. That was the nature of her business. She'd collected her money for killing two of the Devils and licking this job. The three dudes in the devil outfits had really given her a run for her money. First real challenge she had in about five years. She'd wished she could have cashed in all the bounties on the Devils, but that was life. There'd be other jobs and other chances.

Right now, she was focused on the job at hand. She'd spent the last 72 hours in the same chair, watching and waiting for the target to come into view. He was some kind of Turkish customs official who had pissed off Russian smugglers by taking their bribe money and still confiscating the automatic weapons they had tried to pass through Turkey.

The contact had provided the hotel adjacent to the apartment. The apartment belonged to the customs official's mistress. He visited her once a week, but he was now three days late for his illicit rendezvous. So Bullseye sat and waited, the scope of her sniper rifle trained on the window.

Suddenly, she perked up as she saw the apartment's door open. The target came into view and came right into the middle of the crosshairs. She took a deep breath and gently squeezed the trigger. The man's skull exploded in a pink mist. It took Bullseye four seconds to take apart the rifle and another five to exit from the hotel.

By the time the police began their investigation, she was back in her legitimate hotel room, changing out of her work clothes and slipping into her civilian outfit. She had to catch a flight back to New York in an hour, so she had time for one phone call.

"Hi, this is Matt," the voice message on the other line said. "I'm not here right now, so leave your name, number, and I'll get back to you!"

The phone beeped and Bullseye left her message. "Hey...should have known better than try to call you. It's probably the middle of the night in the states. Anyway, work here is done so I'm on the way back to New York. My flight leaves soon, so I'll call you when I can. Can't wait to see you. Bye!"

Hanging up the phone, Elektra Natchios put her cell into her purse and hurried out of her hotel room with a light suitcase on her hands. She had a flight to catch...and a disassembled sniper rifle to dispose of.

 

[Andy C.]

"Gangway, folks! Big-time superhero comin' through!"

I cannot stress this enough: I. Love. This. Suit.

Seriously, now I can swing around town in broad daylight and not feel like a complete doof. I wish I had this when I was fighting that monster with Captain America and all the other guys; maybe then I wouldn't have felt like I was so utterly out of my league.

All elation over my new costume aside, I'm really having to book it across town. Just as soon as I've gotten the skinny on one crisis, now I have to respond to another.

Last night while I was getting knocked around by Tombstone, there was a jailbreak at Ryker's Island. Most of the prisoners were left alone, but four in particular got away, killing quite a few guards along the way:

Electro. Vulture. Rhino. And Kraven.

Some of the wounds on a few of the dead security guards, however, were killed via constriction: crushed like a giant anaconda had gotten them. They don't match the MO of any cataloged super-villain, but he left a signature letting everyone know his name:

The Master Planner.

Unfortunately, while I was getting brought up to speed by Captain Stacy on all the details about the Ryker's Island jailbreak, we got word about another emergency: a robbery at OsCorp. Someone busted in and made off with a ton of high-tech ordinance. I've been swinging from one end of town to the other to get there: if this Master Planner guy has struck again, I want to be on his trail.

Especially if it's OsCorp. For one, it's where Harry's dad works. Secondly, it's where I was accidentally given my spider-powers, so there's probably an awful lot there that really shouldn't be in the hands of super-villains.

I arrive at the OsCorp facility, seeing plumes of smoke billowing from a hole in the wall that looks like it had been blasted open. I swing inside and see police interviewing a few terrified workers, including Dr. Connors and Dr. Warren, as well as some third guy in a wheelchair whom I don't recognize.

"....just came out of nowhere," Doctor Connors gives his statement to the police. "He was a blur of motion, and before I could get a look on his face, he knocked me unconscious."

"What's missing?" I ask Doctor Connors, hanging down from the ceiling to see him eye-to-eye.

"Our experimental GLIDER levitation platform, for one," he says, a nauseous look on his face, "and some of the military-prototype weaponry that went along with it. With those weapons in his hands, he could kill hundreds!"

"Did you catch his name?" I ask. If this is connected to Master Planner and the Ryker's Island incident, this could mean big trouble.

"....no," Doctor Connors says, looking away.

"What about you?" I ask, turning to Doctor Warren. "Did you get a good look at him? Did he have any sort of snake-like appendages that could constrict people, f'rinstance?"

"Wha--? No, no, he didn't have anything like that," Warren stammers. So it's not Master Planner.....but who could it be?

"What the devil?" says the man in the wheelchair as about a dozen squirrels charge into the room and head towards me.

"Ummm.....okay...." I look down at the squirrels uneasily. "What's this? I, um, I don't speak squirrel, fellas. What do you want?"

Once the squirrels see they've got my attention, they turn to the hole in the wall and run towards it, looking out the hole.

I follow after them, and on an opposite rooftop, there's another congregation of squirrels all huddled together, looking straight at me.

... wait a minute. Squirrel Girl said she could talk to squirrels. Maybe she's trying to get a hold of me?

"I, um, I think I need to see what's going on here," I say to the cops and scientists in the crime scene. "I'll be back!"

Leaping out the window, I web my way up to the rooftop, and see yet another group of squirrels on the next rooftop.....and another beyond that....and another further down....and another, and another...

....all lined up in a straight line. Is Squirrel Girl giving me coordinates to meet her for something? Maybe she's found something about this break-in.

I swing my way up several city blocks, following the line of squirrels, all the way to the heart of Manhattan.....


.....and I find Squirrel Girl on a rooftop, bloody and beaten.

"Oh God, are you okay?" I ask, crouching towards the wounded heroine.

"He's......scarier than he looks," Squirrel Girl groans through gritted teeth, "....and he looks pretty scary."

"Who are you talking about?"

Just then, my Spider-Sense goes off, telling me about an incoming threat from above. I spring from the rooftop and somersault away, just as a devastating explosion detonates beneath me. The concussion is like a dozen boots kicking me all over my body all at once, and I go flailing through the air.

I finally regain my bearings enough to sling out a web and land on another nearby building, as a flying figure comes banking towards me at incredible speed.

"HAAAAAAA-HAHAHAHAHAHA-HAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!"

.....who the heck is this guy?

 

[Catman_prb]

Loki has come to take me to my new dwellings. I find it...uncomfortable that I have to become a part of this world. But I am informed that it is unlikely that I shall be allowed back into the court of Asgard any time soon, and I cannot continue to get drunk and sleep in taverns. Even gods need time to rest. So Loki has arranged an 'apartment' for me, as well as a cover identity, which includes a job. He said that I couldn't be saving the world all the time, and having a job beats day-time TV.

"This is it big bro," he says, opening the front door and walking into my apartment. It is big, with a large television hanging from the wall, facing a plush leather sofa. Fur rugs line the wooden floor, circular shields are placed on the wall, and almost everything has a wooden finish. I smile. Loki has tried to make it look like home. But this is not my home. This is the home of 'Donald Blake' the paramedic from New York City. The identity that Loki made for me that I must now live as. I try not to sigh.

"Thankyou brother," I say, patting him heavily on the shoulder "It is very impressive,"

"You want impressive, talk about the rack on the girl downstairs!" Loki exclaims, leaning on the door frame to the apartment.

"I was not looking," I profess, looking around in awe.

"Weren't looking? Man, what happened to the Thor I knew? With the eye for wenches and mead?" my brother laughs.

"Perhaps I'm starting to grow up. Beer?" I ask, walking over the fridge and pulling out some of the drink that I am starting to become used to.

"I kinda need to go. Big things to prepare for in Dad's court, that kind of stuff," Loki says, making his way to the door "You gonna be okay big fella?"

"I shall be fine Loki. I do wonder though. How were the Norn Stones lost? Even more important, how did they get into the hands of mortals?" I ask my brother, fixing his pale green eyes with my own bright blue ones.

"We don't know yet. Freak magic attack?" he suggest, obviously making a feeble attempt at a joke. Magic is not something to take lightly.

He cannot meet my gaze, looks away. My brother is hiding something from me. This worries me considerably. Although the god of tricksters, my brother has never been anything but honest with me. If he has taken to keeping secrets it means one of two things. The politics of my father's court is starting to affect him, make him a more paranoid and shrewd person. Either that, or he no longer trusts me.

"Something like that, I'm sure," I say carefully. Loki bows, almost gratefully, and leaves.

The theft and distribution of the Norn Stones is significant. It means that there are dark forces at work in Asgard, individuals that work to unmake my father's kingdom at best, wreak destruction on both Asgard and Midgard at worst. There is a leak between the two worlds - how did the Norn Stones cross the Bifrost Bridge? But the fact remains, if the Stones were taken, then other things can. And if there is a chink in the defence of the Bifrost Bridge, then not only can items pass over, people can too. The forces of Asgard could soon be unleashed upon the unsuspecting peoples of Midgard.

I must be vigilant. The darkness gathers, and though Earth has its protectors, I doubt any of them are truly prepared for the horrors that lurk in the dark corners of my world. I must protect them, protect all of them, as best I can. And if that means taking up the identity of a mortal, then so be it. But now sleep starts its pull on me, and I retire to my bed. Instead of a quilt, it has furs. Just like home. I sleep. But always, there are the nightmares.

Of things that are yet to come.

***​

Loki approached Heimdall, his boot steps ecchoing over the stone hallway, his face a mask of fury. Heimdall is the leader of Odin's guards, constructed of the warriors of Valhalla. In days gone by, Heimdall was the watchman of the Bifrost Bridge, but as the terrors across the borders grew in strength, Baldur took that role for himself. Heimdall now answers to Lord Odin, and to his advisor, Loki. Heimdall held out the bag containing the Norn Stones.​

"How were they taken?" Loki hissed, snatching them from Heimdall's hand.​

"We do not know lord," Heimdall said, lowering his head in something that lies between shame and deference.​

"Well find out Heimdall, and stop it happening again," Loki barked, clapping him on the shoulder "For all our sakes,"​

***​

He came across the skies in a flaming chariot, lighting the air behind him with fire and casting the green fields of Asgard in shadow. The people of Asgard; warriors of Valhalla, Norse women, Valkyries and Gods alike, all looked up at the sky in wonder. This was something that had not been seen for an age. The sky burnt in his wake as he searchesdfor his destination. Finally he reached the wooden hall of Odin. He pulled on his horses, and they reared up, fear in their eyes and fire on their breath. He burnt a hole in the roof and lowered the chariot inside.​

"Odin All-Father, King of all Asgard!" he declared, his loud voice ecchoing around the hall.​

"What is the meaning of this intrusion, you insolent whelp!" the All-Father bellowed, rising from his golden throne.​

"I have a message for you, old man. Your actions have angered my Lord in their foolishness, your words of wisdom and advice are bile in His ear, your women bear resemblance in their visage to the harpies of old, your warriors prowess that of a newborn kittens!" the man screamed. Odin's face went an alarming shade of grey.​

"What of it?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.​

"You have insulted my Lord Zeus, norseman. Consider yourself at war with Olympus," ​

 

[Andy C.]

The last few days have been busy, to say the least. The restructuring of Westchester and the removal of HAMMER's equipment and operatives has been a huge undertaking, but one that I'm convinced is worth the effort. The new X-Men will be, have to be, an example for mutants everywhere that we can be peacemakers without also being jackboot thugs, that we can change the world without violent overthrow...

....and that we can defend ourselves without Big Brother's help.

Most of the school is easy to convert-- with so much of the military staff and the HAMMER-loyal mutants leaving, there's a lot more room that's opened up. The lower sections underneath the mansion, however, are harder to access. Colonel Haller put many of the higher-security areas under total lockdown, so we couldn't access the things he couldn't bring with him. However, between Emma's SHIELD espionage training, Kitty's ability to phase through walls, and Remy's....talents at getting into places, we've been able to re-open most of the facility.

There's one level, however, that none of us have been able to infiltrate. The locks are near impenetrable, and the walls are too thick to phase through. It's not on any of the official schematics of the facility, which to me means only one thing could be behind that door:

Cerebro.

I've had a team down here all day trying to get it open, so we could deactivate the weapon once and for all, but haven't had any luck. After a few hours, I let them leave for a break and stay behind by myself....

....and once it's just me, the door opens up on its own.

"What the hell?"

Inside, I see a vast spherical chamber, a narrow walkway leading to a small platform in the center. Instinctively I begin to charge energy in my eyes to destroy the machine with an optic blast....

....but I'm compelled to come closer.

I step inside the chamber.....and the door closes behind me.


*****


"Sir, with all due respect, what was I supposed to do?" Colonel Haller pleaded his case. "They had superior numbers, more power on their side....there wasn't anything I could have done to stop Summers from taking over."

"I'm not interested in your excuses, Haller," said General Henry Gyrich, Haller's superior. "The X-Men project has been a disaster from the start. If we're going to contain the mutant problem, we've proved that they can't be trusted to do it. So I'm calling off the project. HAMMER's X-Men and Weapon-X teams will be disbanded. All involved personnel will be re-purposed. And you, Colonel, are relieved of your command."

"But sir, I--"

"That will be all, Colonel. Dismissed."

Colonel Haller sputtered wordlessly for a moment, then left General Gyrich's office.

After a moment, Gyrich picked up his phone and called his new right-hand man.

"Doctor Trask? This is General Gyrich. I'm giving you the green light on your Sentinel units. Project: Wideawake is go."


*****


"Here we are, my children," said Erik Lensherr, known across the world as the dreaded terrorist Magneto. Stepping onto the bow of the hijacked freighter, he eyed his fellow members of the Brotherhood and gestured to the island in front of them.

"For years, this place has been spoken of by our kind with dread," he began, "a final stop on a long trail of persecution and misery. It has been a symbol of the humans' intolerance of our people, their resentment of our superiority.....their fear of our power."

He turned to the Brotherhood and clenched his fists.

"In the days to come, it will be a new symbol for our people: one of determination, of perseverance, and ultimately, of victory. This will be known as the place where mutants threw off their shackles and drew the blood of those who would be their masters! It will be our paradise...and it will be hell for our enemies."

Quieting the raucous cheers, he gazed towards the island, his eyes gleaming with ambition.

"Welcome to Genosha. Our new home."

*****


The Cerebro chamber is massive, the spherical room covered in reflective panels, but I can't see any machinery to make the thing work. It must be embedded in the walls.

On the platform in the center of the chamber is a console, with some kind of headpiece resting on the middle of it. This must be how users are able to tap into it. I could blast the thing apart right now and be done with it...

....but once again, I feel strangely compelled to resist.

I approach the console and pick up the headpiece, examining every inch of it. I can't say I know what this kind of technology is supposed to actually do, but I know what its purpose is.....

....so why haven't I just incinerated it?

As I hold the headpiece, I feel an almost irresistible urge to put it on. God, I hope I'm not about to get myself killed.

The headpiece fits over my head....and suddenly, I'm floating in midair.

Everything around me is swirling light and sound, the thoughts of other people swimming in the air. I can't make out any of it, but I'd bet Jean could. To me it's just a confusing mess.

After a few moments, however, an image solidifies in front of me, one that I never thought I'd see again. And his voice sounds exactly the way it did the last time I saw him.

"Hello, Scott. It's been a long time."

".....Professor?"

 

[Andy C.]

As the Quinjet touches down outside the old missile silo, I charge down the ramp, bringing up my shield immediately to deflect fire from the HYDRA sentries on the outskirts. They're easy to take down; one with a shot to the shoulder from my pistol, the other taking a thrown shield to the face. However, I'm noticing a lot more downed HYDRA agents strewn about the outskirts of the facility. Someone's beaten me here.

I make my way through the corridors of the facility, dispatching the few remaining guards--knocking out the ones that haven't already been killed. I don't have schematics of the place, but fortunately the layout is simple enough that I can figure out more or less exactly where I need to go.

....that, and whoever got here first left a trail of corpses for me to follow.

I finally make it into the main silo, where HYDRA agents are still scurrying about, trying to prepare a missile for launch. Towards the top is the nuke itself, being loaded into the warhead.

I fight my way up three or four levels to the nuke itself, where a man in a mask is waiting for me.

"Captain America, I presume," he says. "I've waited a very long time to meet you. Baron Helmut Zemo, last descendant of the Zemo line. Your father slew my grandfather."

"Heinrich Zemo was a butcher," I say as I ready my shield, looking for a way past him to get to the bomb. "My father did the world a favor by getting rid of him."

"Ah, but in a world consumed by war, don't all men become monsters?" he asks, producing a detonator in his hand. "Let's find out, shall we?"

"Better idea: I take that detonator away from you, stop you from wiping out all the power in the Western Hemisphere, then pin you to the ground and wait for the cavalry to mop you up."


"I assume you mean Nick Fury and his band of war-dogs," Zemo snickers. "I'll have you know he's already here."

Suddenly, my senses explode into stars and colors as there's a heavy blow to the back of my head.

As my eyes re-focus, I see a figure standing over me, flanked by HYDRA soldiers.

"....Fury?"

"Say hello to HYDRA's mole," Zemo laughs triumphantly, "then say goodbye to your life. Fury, kill him!"

 

[Mr. Majestic]

He gave Calvin that stare, the one that looked like it was seeing into your soul.

&#8220;Then don&#8217;t act like one. Follow orders when I give them.&#8221; That was it, it was all he was going to hear on the subject. Victor turned and walked away, if the kid wanted to hit him itd be now, itd here. He could do it but Victor had a feeling he wouldn&#8217;t. He knew he wouldn&#8217;t.

Now back at base first place I went to was the gym, had to release some stress. Like always whenever I tend to get up set I found that lifting on the weight bench helps me cool down and reflect on my past actions.

While working out I pick up on a certain scent, it was John. Guess this would be a good time as any to apologize for what I said to him. As John walks into the gym he heads to the treadmill. Before I continue my work out I stop and sit up from the bench.

&#8220;Look John I&#8217;m sorry about my reaction from earlier.&#8221;

&#8220;Hey don&#8217;t worry about.&#8221; He replies as he begins jogging.

&#8220;Still I have to apologize, when ever I do something wrong and I know Victor is about to rip me a new one I have to get in a different mind set to prepare for it and I tend to snap at anyone else but him.&#8221;

&#8220;Like I said it&#8217;s no big deal. I pretty much knew that was going to be the response I was going to get. You and him act so much like at times anyone would think you two are related the way you act and respond to each other.&#8221;

&#8220;I guess I just been around him for to long and he&#8217;s starting to rub off on me.&#8221;

&#8220;I can see that.&#8221; He says as we both let out a soft laugh.

I been around him so much I&#8217;m starting to know when something is bothering him as well and I know my actions really pissed him off. I&#8217;m really killing myself with these mistakes. There is no way he will ever let me be second in command if I can&#8217;t prove myself.

I then get up from the bench. &#8220;I&#8217;ll be back.&#8221; I tell John as I exit the room.

It only took me a couple of steps and I found myself in front of Victor&#8217;s quarters. I enter and as I do so I see him sitting down looking as if he was thinking about something.

&#8220;Vic do you have a minute?...&#8221;

&#8220;...I&#8217;m not going to stand here is try to explain my actions from before because there is no point. I made a mistake and I should have owned up to it from the start. Instead I did nothing but tried to plead my case. I should have just fallowed your orders from the start. With everything that has taken place you need better from me and you deserve better. I won&#8217;t let it happen again.&#8221;

 

[Andy C.]

"Oh, Spider-Man, I was hoping you would show," says the guy in the green mask and purple cap, whizzing by me on the stolen OsCorp GLIDER and hurling an orange sphere that looks like a small jack-o-lantern. I dive out of the way, but the concussive force of the pumpkin-bomb's explosion still sends me tumbling through the air.

"Well, what can I say? Mad bomber, wearing a green Halloween mask, throwing grenades on a flying wing--how can I resist?" I say as I catch myself with a web line and swing towards the airborne lunatic. I leap at him to try and knock him off the platform, but he jukes the wing to one side at the last second, and slashes me across the side with a set of clawed gloves.

"Agh!" I yelp, "Come on, man! I just got this suit! And now you've got cuts all down the side!"

"True," he says with a sneer. "Maybe we should give you some more cuts to match them!"

With that, he flings three objects toward me, which unfold into razor-sharp projectiles shaped like bat wings. The first one severs my web-line and sends me into free-fall, and while I'm able to twist to avoid the second, the third gets a nasty gash in my arm.

I web my way towards a wall, then have to leap away for dear life to avoid another one of those explosive pumpkin-bombs that absolutely devastates the side of the building. When I start to pull myself to the opposite building across the street, he intercepts me, swooping down on the GLIDER and ramming his shoulder into my abdomen. Blinding pain shoots through my body as the ribs that Silvermane had injured a few nights ago splinter and break.

I'm able to wriggle free from his grip and climb over him, slamming my feet into the back of his head to jump away, swinging up to the rooftops to recuperate.

"Okay, *ngh!*, seriously," I grunt as I wrap some makeshift webbing-bandages around my ribs, "Who are you? Are you one of Kingpin's lackeys?"

The madman cackles like....well, like a madman as he hovers over me.

"Kingpin? That beached whale? Hah!" he laughs, flecks of spittle spraying off of his fang-like teeth. "You can call me the Green Goblin, and I'm no one's lackey!"

He lets fly with another pair of pumpkin-bombs that obliterate the rooftop, and I'm able to jump high enough to avoid the worst of the damage, arcing down towards him with a flying kick, but the Goblin once again moves his Glider out of the way.

"Okay, so you're your own boss, I can respect that," I say, using a web-line to slingshot myself back up to his level and whiffing on a big punch, which he catches and then tosses me aside. "But what's your goal here? 'Cause I'm not seeing too many get-rich-quick schemes that center around bombing high-rises dressed like a technicolor imp."

"And who says I need a goal?" the Goblin snickers, swooping past me and catching me in the arm with his claws. "With the power I possess, this city is my playground, and this is the perfect way to unwind with it! You can't tell me the same never occurred to you."

Okay, so when I first got my powers, I did use them to screw around a bit--tagging police cars, jumping around through private property just because I could, etc. But mayhem and mass destruction?

"Y'know, there are other ways to let off stress," I say as I cartwheel and corkscrew to avoid another barrage of razor-bats. "Ever thought of trying racquetball?"

I fire a net of webbing towards him, which he rips apart with his claws.

"I think I've found my new favorite sport right here, thank you very much," he says with an excited grin. "And you're going to be my number one opponent."

"Well hey, that's flattering," I say as I fire back with globs of impact webbing, "but don't you think that's moving a little fast? I mean, this is your first outing as a super-villain; you should take time to play the field before finding an arch-nemesis."

"Ah, but I've had my eye on you for quite some time," he says in a tone I'm not too comfortable with. "I know your moves, I know your powers, I know what you can do and why."

I try to web-zip up to him, but he intercepts me with a pumpkin-bomb. At the last split-second I web it up to contain the blast, but the explosion still hits me like a punch from Rhino, the heat actually catching some of the fabric of my costume on fire, the shrapnel cutting me in a dozen different places as I'm thrown back and bounce off of the concrete rooftop.

When my senses return, the Goblin is hovering right over me, a murderous grin on his face.

"And that's not all I know about you.....Peter Parker."

 

[Andy C.]

"Who are you?!" I shout, trying in vain to hit the Green Goblin with bolts of impact webbing while he banks and dives around them, laughing triumphantly, before making another pass and catching me across the leg with his claws when I try and jump out of the way.

For the first time in what feels like forever, I'm afraid. Scared out of my mind.

This Goblin guy....I can't beat him.

He's faster than me. He's stronger. He's packing enough firepower to level a city block.

And he knows my name. How does he know my name?!

"Unsettling, isn't it?" he mocks me as he strafes past, lobbing his pumpkin-bombs as I run from rooftop to rooftop for dear life. "Knowing that there's someone out there who knows your big secret. That you can't just take the mask off and get lost in the crowd. That at any moment I choose, I can come after you....or the people you love."

I leap down between buildings, then fire a web-line up to the bottom of his Glider when he passes over. The flying wing pulls me upward and I hold on for dear life as he drags me behind him, like the move I tried on Vulture. At least now I'm not in his direct line of fire.

"Nowhere for you to hide, no tricks you can pull," he sneers before banking the Glider around hard, whipping me around and into a metal air-conditioner. I feel my collarbone break when I hit. "I know exactly who you are and where you live, and can ruin you whenever I want!"

I pull myself up to my feet, having to roll out of the way of a trio of his razor-bat things, nearly blacking out from the pain as I put weight on broken bones.

"But where's the fun in that?" the Goblin continues, hovering around me as I try and limp to some cover. "After all, no one's going to care if some underachieving teenager like Peter Parker dies. But if the heroic Spider-Man gets taken down? The whole world will know it."

He flies down towards me, and I jump towards him, trying to hit him, to tak him out somehow. He grabs me out of the air and flings me away, down onto a lower building. The impact is so hard that I actually lose consciousness for a few seconds.

When I come to, every part of my body hurts. Cuts and gashes all over, multiple fractures. I can't keep this up.

"So here's the deal: when you've got your mask off and you're trying to live your pitiful awkward little life, you're off-limits. But the second you put on that costume, the second you sling a web, you're mine to play with. And I'm going to put you and your abilities to the test every time."

He pulls out another pumpkin-bomb and arms it.

"Test number one: survive this."

He hurls the bomb towards me, and the world slows down.

I'm too hurt to get out of the way. I can barely stand up, let alone cover the amount of distance needed to clear the blast from it.

This is it.....I'm going to die.

My life doesn't flash before my eyes, like they say it does. All I can think of are all the things I never got to do.

I never got to go to college.

I never got to get my driver's license.

I never got to get a real job and make a life for myself.

I never got to win back Mary Jane from the evil clutches of Flash Thompson.

I never got to make up for losing Uncle Ben and Aunt May.

......I never got to tell Gwen how I feel.....

No. I'm not dying yet.

I grit my teeth and leap into the air, not away from the pumpkin-bomb, but towards it. This had better work--I'm going to feel really stupid in Heaven if I screw this up.

I spin and with my one uninjured arm I catch the bomb with a web-line as it passes by me, letting the adhesive stretch until it's taut. I complete the spin as the web-line snaps back, flinging the pumpkin-bomb right in the Green Goblin's face.

KA-BLAAAAMMMMM!

I tumble to the rooftops, and the Goblin goes flying off his Glider, plummeting to the streets below.

"Test.......one......" I grunt between ragged gasps as I try to stay conscious through the pain, "........passed."

I slowly drag myself towards the ledge, looking down to see if there's any sign of where he landed. Not a trace.

He got away.

Still, I survived. Which, I guess, means I won.

Everything hurts. Moving hurts. Staying still hurts. Breathing hurts. Thinking hurts.

I have to go somewhere to recuperate. Can't think straight....lost too much blood, landed on my head when the Goblin dropped me.

Have to rest. Have to go somewhere....somewhere safe.

I start to run....to crawl...to drag myself to where I need to go. I can't even picture where I'm going, just that it's the one place in the world I want to be.

It takes hours. Losing consciousness for minutes at a time, ducking and crawling away from police cars and HAMMER helicopters sweeping the area in the aftermath of the battle. But I pull myself onward, undeterred.

It's long after dark when I arrive. I'm exhausted, in agony, and delirious from blood loss....but I know I'm there. I'd recognize the old neighborhood anywhere.

The house is dark, and the doors are locked. I haven't been here in over a year. But this is where I need to be. It's safe here.

I go around to the side and break in through the window. The old room is stuffy and empty now, but I know it. I can stop. I can rest....

"Home....," I say to myself, my words slurring as the world starts to spin around me. ".....I'm..........home."

I lie down on the spot of floor where my bed used to be......and everything goes black.

 

[sabetoonth]

It only took me a couple of steps and I found myself in front of Victor&#8217;s quarters. I enter and as I do so I see him sitting down looking as if he was thinking about something.

&#8220;Vic do you have a minute?...&#8221;

&#8220;...I&#8217;m not going to stand here is try to explain my actions from before because there is no point. I made a mistake and I should have owned up to it from the start. Instead I did nothing but tried to plead my case. I should have just fallowed your orders from the start. With everything that has taken place you need better from me and you deserve better. I won&#8217;t let it happen again.&#8221;

Victor heard him coming down the hall; he smelled his scent on the air as soon as the door opened. He knew Calvin was coming in to apologize, he&#8217;d learned a lot about the kid since they&#8217;d started working together. So he knew when the kid was due to show up for an apology. But that wasn&#8217;t the point; the point was he admitted to a mistake. Admitting to a screw up is the first step, now how was he going to prevent the same mistake?

&#8220;That&#8217;s good Calvin, now tell me how you&#8217;re gonna do that?&#8221; Talking to the kid seemed to do a lot more good than barking or roaring at him. He had read the notice the team was to finish this mission and then disband and return to HAMMER facilities each already pre-assigned. Victor was already figuring his escape route, if the information they got out of their guests (who were rather forthcoming with information) was accurate, then the Reavers where based in Japan as of most recent contact. There had been a number of little trails leading them out farther west into the east left anonymously as of late. He was sure they were there but had been running into difficulties going over seas for this. There job is to hunt down Logan! Where ever he is! Not sit and wait for approval, they needed proof.

-One Received Phone Call And A Jet Ride Later-

The team was in Japan, they got a not so anonymous call from someone concerning the location of the Reavers. Victor damned clearance and got the team on a Black Bird and in the air before sundown, and by sunrise the next morning they were in Japan heading towards the apartments being rented by a group of mercenary mutants. Victor directed John to silently go in and finds Cassidy, shut him up by any means and then bring him out to be put in restraints. Then the rest of the team would move in on the remaining Reavers, Victor was aiming to take on Logan. He cast a look to Wraith as a signal. He vanished and for a few moments Victor&#8217;s breath was so slow, he was hardly breathing at all. He ran over the plan in his mind a million times, before they left they also lost their psychic, Psylocke having been recruited to the Ultimates by Director 13, so they were down another team mate and they were down a mind reader. The plan would still work if they moved quick and efficiently, if nothing bad happened.

Of course then they heard a scream, and appeared out of no where before running down the walk way. That&#8217;s okay, that&#8217;s part of plan B. He gets some distance and then lays on cover fire with his rifle.

Victor burst through the door nearest him, of three doors three where occupied by Reavers. He sniffed the air, he smelled soap, moisture, someone had taken a shower. Whoever was in here was waiting for him, there is no way that scream from Cassidy did not wake these people up. He crept through the apartment, sniffing, listening, and waiting. He heard the claws pop with a snikt and he turned on his heal to catch Logan as he lunged, they toppled over a chair. Victor began laying in the brutal heavy blows with his fists, sinking in his claws and swiping at Logan&#8217;s face. Logan kicked Victor off and recovered, the open wounds closing quickly.

&#8220;Come on Victor, let&#8217;s finish it.&#8221; Wolverine spat.

Sabretooth was already back up, already on his way back towards his smaller mutant former compadre. &#8220;It&#8217;ll never be over for us Logan. But if you want a fight&#8230;&#8221; He leaped for Logan, aiming to spear him with his shoulder, wait for Logan&#8217;s counter and then counter that. He was going to bring this little adventure that had taken almost a year of his life to a close.

 

[Andy C.]

"Fury, what the hell are you doing?" I ask as he fires his pistol at me. An electromagnetic 'needle' gun, it's essentially a miniaturized rail-gun with zero recoil, meaning he can pop off shot after shot with perfect aim. It's all I can do to keep moving my shield to deflect and twist my body to minimize my profile so that the ones I don't block only graze.

"He's doing precisely what I instructed him to do," Zemo says as he prepares the warhead, "just as he has done subconsciously for quite some time. Approximately five years ago, Fury tried to assassinate me before I could rise to prominence in HYDRA. He was captured and then subjected to countless behavioral modification experiments."

"Brainwashing," I snarl, charging towards Fury as he ejects the spent clip from his pistol and begins to load a new one. As I get close enough to reach him, he activates his teleporter, then I feel the sharp pain of his knee ramming into the small of my back.

"You would be amazed how useful it is to have the Director of SHIELD unwittingly showing me his hand at every turn. Unfortunately, he's reached the end of his usefulness."

Zemo finishes arming the warhead, then activates a countdown.

"In three minutes' time, the missile will launch, roasting anyone in the silo alive. Since I'm not in the mood to be barbecued, I'll be taking my leave now. Fury, on the other hand, will keep you here until the missile kills you both. Assuming he doesn't kill you first, of course."

I'm able to knock the gun out of Fury's hand with a kick, but he makes me pay for it by bashing his forearm into my nose.

"In the war, Nick Fury and Captain America killed Baron Zemo and brought down the Nazi empire. I think killing you both while I bring the United States to its knees will even things out."

Zemo strolls away, and every time I try to break away from the fight to go after him, Fury is there to stop me.

Hand-to-hand, Nick is like nothing I've ever seen. His movements are fluid and dynamic, but at the same time sharp and brutal, getting past my shield to connect with fists and knees and elbows. Even when I do manage to counter, he uses his teleporter to reposition himself for another strike, disappearing from in front of me to reappear to my side and slam his elbow into my temple.

As I try to recover, Fury steps forward to sweep my leg, ducking under the shield and then twisting to throw me to the ground, his free hand going for my holster and pulling out my pistol in one motion.

"Fury, snap out of it!" I say, staring down the barrel of my own gun. "Zemo's brainwashed you; you have to fight it!"

He pulls back the hammer, a cold, dead look in his eye.

"Nick, if you let Zemo do this, he's going to kill millions of people. The whole western hemisphere is going to be lost. Think of those lives, Fury! Think of your country!"

There's a pause for a moment.......and Fury drops the gun to the floor.

"...my country...." he says, staring blankly at me. "I.....I failed my country."

He turns away, heading back to the missile and producing what looks like a cutting laser.

"Zemo's pulled the wool over my eyes for years, and people have died because of it," he says as he starts to cut the missile's fuselage open. "That stops now."

"Thank God," I say as I get to my feet. "Can you disable the missile?"

Looking at the wiring, Fury's expression sours.

"The missile is going to launch in about ninety seconds," Fury says as he starts to reach into the machinery, "and the warhead is timed to detonate four minutes after that. I can't deactivate the warhead.......but I can stop the missile from launching."

"But the nuke will just go off here on the ground!"

"It's a small warhead, only a few kilotons," Fury says. "The only people who the bomb will kill are the people here in this silo. All of them HYDRA operatives......including myself, I suppose."

"Fury, what are you--"

"I was made into a dupe for the enemy, and that's unacceptable," he says as he works. "The Old Soldier should have never chosen me for the job. Intentional or not, I've betrayed my country, disgraced my organization....and I let the Old Soldier down. This is the only way to atone for it."

"Nick, you don't have to--"

"Sixty seconds left til launch, which means five minutes til the bomb goes off," he interrupts me. "If you're going to make it back to your jet in time to get out of here, you're going to have to leave now."

There's no arguing with him now. Either he sacrifices himself here, or the missile knocks out all power on the continent and millions die.

I stand at attention and salute.

"Director Fury, it's been an honor."

"The country's yours now, Captain; don't mess it up. Dismissed."

With that, I leave Fury to his work and make my way through the silo at a dead run.

I find the Quinjet and fire up the engines with just under a minute to spare. As I take off in the jet, there's a blinding light and a buffeting shock that nearly sends the plane crashing to the ground.

As the light fades away and the Quinjet stabilizes, I look behind me....

....and see the entire facility has gone up in a mushroom cloud, with Nick Fury inside.

The flight back to the old Stark Mansion is quiet, solemn, as I think of Fury's last words.

He's entrusted myself and the Avengers to take the reins as the protectors of freedom and democracy. To be a beacon of hope in a world of tyrants and bureaucracies.

To be a Sentinel of Liberty.

....I'm going to have my work cut out for me.

 

[Andy C.]

Everything is dark and cold. Time passes, but I'm barely aware of it. It's like I'm being pulled down in an ocean of liquid smoke, just sinking further and further into darkness.

I think.......I think I'm dead.

Every now and then, I see shades of light, cutting through the darkness like a light in the fog. I hear a familiar voice, but it's distant and muffled, like I'm underwater and it's calling to me from the surface.

I feel dull aches and pains on different points all over my body. Hands touching them, mending my pain. At one point I could swear that, for just a second, I feel a pair of lips on my cheek.

I'm overcome by vertigo, tumbling end over end until I can't tell if I'm sinking or rising, being pulled down or rising towards the surface.....

.....and then I wake up, lying on a couch, a familiar face seated in a chair next to me, reading a book.

"....Gwen?"

Startled, Gwen lets the book fall to the floor.

"Peter? Oh, thank God!" she says, getting up from the chair and leaning over to hug me. "I thought I was going to lose you."

"Heh, I thought I was going to lose me, too," I say, remembering all the damage I had taken. "The Goblin....he beat the crap out of me, nearly killed me. I know I had broken bones, and I was bleeding all over. But I'm.....fine, now. How long have I been under?"

"It's been about three days," Gwen says. "You were next door, in your old room at your uncle's house. I heard the window breaking and went in to investigate, and I found you bleeding on the floor. I didn't know what to do, so I....I called my dad. He took you to a place run by these people called the 'Night Nurses' who treated you, and then we brought you back here to recuperate."

Gwen looks away, her cheeks flushed.

"I, um.....I've been here looking after you ever since. I haven't left your side."

I smile, until I think of something that shakes me.

"So, your dad.....he knows?"

Gwen nods.

"The last couple of days have been pretty...intense," she says. "He's not going to turn you in, if that's what you're worried about. He said that you've done more to help the city than harm it. Most of the argument was about how he didn't want me to get involved in all this. But...I am involved. Because you're....y'know....my friend."

"Has anyone else said anything?"

"Mary Jane called earlier today wondering if I knew where you were," Gwen says. "You're lucky this was a weekend; you only missed one day of school. I haven't heard anything from Harry or his dad, though."

"Weird," I say, sitting up. "Gwen, I, um.......I never said thank you."

"For what?"

"For, well, everything. The new costume is amazing, and I can't even tell you how many times I would've been dead if it weren't for the web-shooters, but it's more than that. I became Spider-Man just to beat up bad guys, to hurt people who deserved it. You were the one who got me thinking more about helping people rather than just hurting them. You took Spider-Man and turned it into something good. And I know I've said that you're awesome, and that you rule--and you totally do--but I never actually said thank you. So......thank you."

Gwen blushes.

"Peter, that....that means a lot to me."

"You mean a lot to me," I say. "I mean, Harry's like a brother to me and MJ has been awesome, but you are far and away the best friend I've ever had."

We share a smile, then I start to get my gear, which she's organized in a stack by the couch.

"I think your dad might have a point about you getting involved, though. I mean, you've been so much help, but with everything going on.....the Goblin still on the loose....the Kingpin.....this 'Master Planner' guy and the band of psychos he's broken out of prison.....I dunno, I think things are going to get a lot harder before they get any easier."

I put on my tights first, then my shirt and pants over it.

"And it's not like I can just give it up, even when I'm being threatened. Right now I'm the only one in the city who can take on guys like that and win, so until the police or someone has the firepower to fight super-villains on their own, then it's my job, my duty, to protect people."

I pick up my mask and stare at it.

"I've been given great power. I mean, yeah, I'm not exactly Iron Man or Thor, but still.....and with great power, there comes great.........responsibility. I have to take on the bad guys that no one else can or will, even with the press calling me a menace, even with the mob on my back......even if I have to do it alone."

"Peter," Gwen says as she takes the mask in her hands and we hold it together, "you don't have to do it alone."

"Well, I mean, what are my options? I'm not exactly cut out for the Avengers, there's no way I'm signing up for the Ultimates, the Fantastic Four would have to change all of their stationery--"

"No, Peter," she says, looking me in the eye. "I mean......you don't have to do it....alone."

"What do you mean by--.....Gwen, why are you staring at me like--.............oh."

Gwen Stacy: Girl Genius.

Most people, especially jerks like Eddie Brock, only saw Gwen as a girl, never really appreciating the fact that she's a genius. Me, on the other hand? I never had any problem seeing that she's a genius....

....but it's only now that I really see that she's also a girl. One with all the right parts in all the right places and everything.

And suddenly I'm the one who can't stop staring.

She pulls me in close, closing her eyes....

.....our lips meet....

....and fireworks start going off in my head.

As handy as they are in a fight, this is where enhanced senses really pay off. This close to her, I can feel her pulse beating as she presses her body against mine. I can smell the salt in the tears welling up in her eyes. I can practically taste the sweetness in her voice as she softly moans into my mouth.

Finally, she pulls away and I open my eyes.

"Oh my God, Gwen, I...I..." I begin to stammer, trying to explain what I'm feeling. "All this time, I've wanted to...to tell you.....but I didn't know, I didn't know what it was. I mean, I knew I felt it, and I thought you felt the same thing, but, I mean, I didn't know what to call it, because....because it's how I've always felt. And, y'know, how do you explain your default-setting of emotions? But, I mean, I just--"

"Peter," Gwen stops me, smiling from ear to ear. "Remember what Mary Jane said to us the other day?"

"....that if I've got something to say to someone, I should just come out and say it?"

"Exactly," she nods, "So just come out and say it."

"Okay....all right.....here it is...."

I close my eyes....

....I take a deep breath....

....and then I say the words I've been looking for my entire life.

"I love you, Gwen Stacy."

Gwen flushes and purses her lips, trying not to cry as tears of joy roll down her face. Finally, she takes in a deep breath of her own...

"It's about time."

I laugh, she laughs, and we move in to kiss again, before I stop short.

"Wait.....did you just Battlestar Galactica me?"

"You know you love it."

We kiss again, this time deeper and longer. And it's not just fireworks in my head anymore.

It's the Fourth of July display in the middle of the laser-light show at the planetarium, all happening during the ending of 2001.

It's getting consecutive high fives from Hulk Hogan, Chuck Norris, and Bruce Campbell in front of the biggest American flag ever.

It's.....it's....

...it's kissing the girl you've loved since the day you met her.

She pulls away and looks me dead in the eye as she takes me by the hand.

Then she leads me upstairs to her bedroom.....

....and what happens next is none of your business.

 

[Carnage27]

Shadowcat
​

I sit looking out over the West Chester compound, pondering the events of the past few days. We've officially broken off from HAMMER, and for the moment it seems like they aren't going to do anything about it. I've spent the past few days breaking into formerly restricted areas in order to give us all available control over the compound.

Unfortunately, we still haven't been able to make it into Cerebro. meaning we haven't been able to destroy it. It worries all of us, even though we don't show it. It's the one weapon we can't allow to survive. It's the one weapon that could really change the world for the worse.

Even though we've gotten autonomy from the government, we're still X-Men, and Scott's new training regiment proves that. Even though we've been working on getting the place set up for its future use, we've been training two hours a night. But none of us have complained. We're all just happy to be free. Free to save mutants. Free to bring them to a life they should have.

And as my head hits the pillows on my bed, I smile, and finally feel like I'm where I should be.

 

[Mr. Majestic]

-One Received Phone Call And A Jet Ride

While on the jet looking at our numbers I can’t help but feel like we seemed to be getting members taken away from us every mission. Guess the only thing this means I’m going to have to work twice as hard. I know once we make contact with the Reavers Sab is going straight after Wolverine. That’s a battle I’ll keep away from, besides I have my own little nemesis to deal with. I owe the one named Daken a rematch from the last time we fought. Last time he had got the upper hand on me because he was more experienced than me but this time will be different.

When we encounter the Reaver we all are going to have to be on our A game. I know I’m going to have my hands full with Daken and Victor with Logan. So the others are going to have to hold there own.

I glance over at the other team members. I know I won’t have to worry about Sage she is more than capable of handling her own. I have seen her in action enough to know that for a fact. As for John he is a teleporter so he will have an advantage against most opponents. But there is something I have noticed about him when he is fighting that I should let him know about.

“Hey John.” I say to grab his attention.

He turns around in his seat and faces me. “What’cha need Calvin?”

“I was just thinking when we come across the Reavers and we are all fighting try not to teleport behind your opponent to much. I been thinking about just the few missions we did have and you tend to do that a lot. You’re starting to come predictable Johnny boy.”

For a moment he doesn’t say anything he only smiles. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He finally says.

Later-

The team was in Japan, they got a not so anonymous call from someone concerning the location of the Reavers. Victor damned clearance and got the team on a Black Bird and in the air before sundown, and by sunrise the next morning they were in Japan heading towards the apartments being rented by a group of mercenary mutants. Victor directed John to silently go in and finds Cassidy, shut him up by any means and then bring him out to be put in restraints. Then the rest of the team would move in on the remaining Reavers, Victor was aiming to take on Logan. He cast a look to Wraith as a signal. He vanished and for a few moments Victor’s breath was so slow, he was hardly breathing at all. He ran over the plan in his mind a million times, before they left they also lost their psychic, Psylocke having been recruited to the Ultimates by Director 13, so they were down another team mate and they were down a mind reader. The plan would still work if they moved quick and efficiently, if nothing bad happened.

Of course then they heard a scream, and appeared out of no where before running down the walk way. That’s okay, that’s part of plan B. He gets some distance and then lays on cover fire with his rifle.

After hearing the loud scream I ran into the apartments. While on the bottom floor I sniff the air trying to catch a recognizable scent and luck must be on my side because I do.

“It’s him.” I utter with a growl to fallow.

Wasting no more time I quickly take to the stairs running at full speed through the hallways heading to my destination. On the third floor I pick up on Logan’s and Sabertooth’s scent, didn’t really need to smell them since I can hear them brawling just a couple of doors down. Besides them two I caught a whiff of the other Reavers. But not just any Reaver would do it for me it had to be him. I use my senses to pinpoint his location. I end up at a door just across from Wolverine’s. Right as I was about to kick down the door he was first to go on the offensive. He burst through the door in inject his claws into my chest. While falling back I placed my foot on his chest and used the momentum to kick him off me. As his went through a wall I got back up on my feet and fallowed suit.

 

[Eddie Brock]

"Jarvis, buddy, I need you out there for tactical support," I announce. "How long would a hard reboot take?"

"About fifteen minutes, sir. During which time you'd be flying blind."

I nod. "That's alright. I have to make a stop anyway." I clench my teeth underneath my helmet. "I need to get changed into something more suitable for the occasion."

***

The fight with Whiplash drained my suit of most of its power. It also compromised my outer shell. It's hardly the ideal situation to be in going into the final showdown with Obadiah. For that reason, I make my way to my penthouse before heading off to Stark Enterprises. Dropping in through the skylight, I land with a hard thud in the middle of the living room.

Pepper's converted the place into her own personal workshop, just like I asked her to. Tools and spare parts are strewn about the room. The place smells vaguely of diesel fuel and motor oil. And in the far corner is Pepper's pride and joy, the project I assigned her immediately following the Stark Expo.

The Mark IV.

It's only been seven months since Stark debuted its newest line of Iron Men, the Patriot. And yet, in that time, Pepper has managed to take all their work and make it obsolete. She did what it took a team of engineers almost half a year to do: build a better Iron Man. Lighter, faster, and with increased energy supply, the Mark IV is the future realized. And I can think of no better occasion to give it its proper field test.

After climbing out of the Mark II, I scurry to Pepper's computer and begin the powering-up sequence for the Mark IV. The suit blinks to life with a whir. She's a real beaut. I open her up and climb inside. It's been more than fifteen minutes. "Jarvis?"

"Primed and ready for action, sir," Jarvis responds as the new suit's HUD opens. "I must say, the Mark IV looks exquisite."

"Well, then, let's go find Pepper and show her the fruits of her labor."

***

The Mark IV handles like a dream. I find myself resisting the urge to turn this into a joy ride. Of course, knowing Pepper's in danger is more than enough motivation to keep my head in the game. Obadiah's a real bastard, but I don't know that he's capable of hurting an innocent person - not directly, anyway. Still, I can't risk that he's bluffing. Pepper means too much.

I arrive at Stark Enterprises, not touching down but instead hovering a few inches above the ground. "Obadiah! I'm here!" Silence. The targeting reticule on my HUD bounces around frantically, looking for a hostile target. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

"For longer than you know."

I'm blindsided suddenly. It feels like I was hit by a truck. I crash through the fountain in front of the main building.

The Patriot armor. God only knows how Obadiah got his hands on one of those. For all I know, he made it himself. Or maybe he still has connections within Stark. Either way, he's definitely looking for a fight. "You know the difference between you and I, Tony? We're both iron mongers. I'm just not afraid to admit it."

Obadiah's gauntlets crackle with electricity. I realize that I'm standing in a body of water. Before I can move, Obadiah unleashes a lightning strike. The electricity runs up my body, locking up my armor and immobilizing me. Obadiah uses that window of time to crash into me. We tumble across the pavement until I'm able to throw him off.

"Where's Pepper?" I ask as I get to my feet, charging a repulsor blast.

"Inside. But don't worry, she has a front row seat to the showdown," Obadiah replies, pointing to the many security cameras which line the perimeter of the Stark Enterprises courtyard.

I fire a repulsor blast which Obadiah bats away with the back of his hand. No way. I've studied the Patriot schematics top and bottom. He shouldn't be this strong.

"You're not the only one who's had time to make adjustments, Tony."

Obadiah's shoulder plates open up, revealing two miniature rockets. He fires them at me. I glide past the first, but unfortunately the second catches me in the side. The explosion knocks me off my feet.

"Don't forget: I was the one spearheading the Patriot project. Your engineers thought they were building the next Iron Man. They were just building my prototype. I've improved the Patriot in every way."

"Every way except the pilot."

A swarm of nanobots erupts from microscopic openings in the Mark IV's outer shell. Together, they form a concussive wave which, upon hitting Obadiah, also unleash a brief electric charge. The result is that Obadiah is frozen for a split-second, which is more than enough time for me to hit him in the chest with a charged repulsor blast.

"What is this about, Obadiah? This isn't like you."

Obadiah pulls two discs off of his thigh plates. The discs begin to glow with repulsor energy. He throws them at me like circular saw blades. I try to twist out of the way, but both discs cut through my armor like butter.

"Look at us, Tony. Look at what we've each been able to accomplish alone." Obadiah clenches his fist. "We could've reshaped the world, if only you didn't follow your father's outdated ideology!"

"My father was a good man," I protest as I fire several repulsor blasts in quick succession.

Obadiah bats away a few repulsor blasts and is forced to absorb the rest. "There's no room in this world for good men! Even Captain America isn't immune to scrutiny anymore! The world rewards those with conviction, those who aren't afraid to get their hands dirty!"

"And that's you?"

I rush in close to land a few punches on Obadiah's armor.

"You gave murderers the tools to perfect their craft! You promoted war for the sake of profit! You're right about one thing, Obadiah. You are an Iron Monger!"

Obadiah connects with a backhand, knocking me to the ground. "And you're any different?! You can change the name of the company. You can cancel the Iron Man line. But face facts, Tony! Being a merchant of death is all you know!"

I grit my teeth. "You're wrong. About so many things."

Obadiah steps on my head, crushing my helmet under his boot. "I've known you since you were still suckling your mother's teat, Tony. You don't know how to be responsible. This ruse of yours...that's all it is. Sooner or later, you'll revert back to the man we all know. Sooner or later, you're going to let everyone down."

"Sir, I would advise moving."

Ignoring Jarvis - as well as the feeling of my head beginning to get crushed - I grunt, "You wouldn't know the first thing about being responsible." I grab Obadiah's boot and forcefully throw him off of me. As he tumbles to the ground, I channel maximum power to the unibeam. "And you don't know anything about me!"

The unibeam connects, and Obadiah disappears under a flash of light and sound. When the dust clears, he's laying motionless in a crater.

"I detect no power signature from his suit," Jarvis reports.

I pop open my faceplate. "Such a waste."

"I was just thinking the same thing."

I spin, facing the direction of the new voice.

"What did you think about my drone? Very lifelike, wasn't it?"

I glance over my shoulder. The faceplate on Obadiah's armor slides open to reveal nothing but blinking lights underneath. The bastard tricked me.

"Where were we?"
​

 

[Catman_prb]

I don't feel right. I mean, I know that we've won, that mutants now have a place to go if they done want to get lynched, recruited by a super-secret government taskforsk, or join a terrorist group. And, as a plus, they don't have to fight anyone at all. 'Cos that's what we're there for. There's a distinction between X-Men and students of the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. That's what we're calling it by the way. Anyway, it still doesn't feel right, what we're doing now. Peter and I've drawn the short straw...and are now in Kansas.

"Hey Warren, snap out of it," Peter says, and I turn to look at him blearily. I'm still tired from our late night private jet, and the metal-man's on caffein pills in order to drive the rented pick up truck.

"I'm just distracted by the fine scenery," I deadpan. It's like Kansas is in the middle of a hurricane, or a typhoon or some such. The rain drums torrentially on the top of the car, the wind tries to push us into a ditch and, godammit, it's ****ing freezing.

We reach the farm and pull up onto the drive, that appears to have turned into sludge. I half expect the wheels to get stuck in the mud, forcing us to get out and push. Peter manages to force it up towards the house and park the damn thing. I get out. I am immediately drenched, my steadily growing hair plastered down against my skull. I pop the collar of my trenchcoat. I am still soaked. Peter waves at me from inside the truck, obviously not planning on getting out. Bastard.

I knock on the door, and the classic little old lady opens it, peering out into the rain.

"Mrs Smith? I'm here to talk to you about your daughter," I shout over the rain.

"What about my daughter?" she asks.

"We know she's not normal. We can help her. And we'd like to offer her a place at the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning,"

 

[Andy C.]

The response from the media regarding the nuke going off in Nebraska is frantic at best. The entire country is placed on high alert, the State Department and HAMMER scrambling for sources on who was responsible for a nuclear attack on American soil. Thankfully it was a small bomb, far from any residential areas, so no civilians were harmed, but the entire blast zone and everything within a 20-mile radius has been cordoned off due to the radiation.

The only losses were the people still inside the facility when it went off. That primarily consisted of HYDRA operatives--as well as Nick Fury, the Director of SHIELD.

While the news networks panic and the military begins looking for answers, I patch into the old SHIELD communications network in the Stark Mansion. Fury said if I had a message, then his organization would provide the method to get past it. They've got a secure broadcast signal, on a wave so strong that not even HAMMER can jam it, capable of broadcasting on every television and radio channel on the continent.

People want answers from me....for the nuke...for the breakout at Genosha Bay...for shooting Director 13.....for a lot of things.

It's time I give those answers.

"My fellow Americans, and people of the world," I say into a small camera, knowing my face and voice are now popping up all over the country, "in the months since my debut to the public, there has been a lot of controversy, in regards to the decisions I've made, and the incidents in which I've been involved. I've been labeled by some as an outlaw, as a maniac, and as a danger to the country I love, and until now I haven't been able to defend myself against these allegations. Considering what happened in Nebraska, I can no longer remain silent. But first, I think a proper introduction is in order."

I take off my mask, and show the nation my face.

"My codename is Captain America, but my name is James Buchanan Barnes. It was changed from my birth-name, James Steven Rogers, son of Captain Steve Rogers, the original Captain America. Over half a century ago, my father swore an oath, to fight for liberty over tyranny, to protect free people everywhere from the forces of oppression. It's an oath that I have taken myself, and one by which I will live until the day I die.

"I was equipped and trained and given my father's old codename by HAMMER, and I intended to do everything in my power to live up to my father's legacy: to be a defender of the state, against enemies of the people."

I think on the early days of my career, working with people like Isaiah Bradley. Back then it was so much easier to believe in what HAMMER stood for, that we were doing the right thing. It didn't last long.

"However, I found myself, as many like me do today, conflicted by serving an organization that is clearly more concerned with the ends than with the means by which they achieve it. How could I fight for freedom while working for a group that undermines it? In short, what do you do when the defenders of the state...are the enemies of the people?"

I think of the night in Times Square when I, along with a congregation of heroes, defeated the superpowered alien monster....only to be confronted and threatened by Carter and her brute squads. I watched as they dragged Miss Marvel away in handcuffs for doing nothing other than saving lives. It was then that I knew that HAMMER had gone off the rails.

"Time and time again, we've watched HAMMER overstep its bounds, plow through its intended checks and balances, and trample Constitutional rights, all in the name of security. We've convinced ourselves that it's acceptable to allow this organization to tighten its grip on the population, to hire known assassins and wanted political killers onto its payroll, to round up unassuming and non-violent mutants and ship them off to a state-funded concentration camp for no crime other than not registering.....to hold civilians hostage and threaten their lives in order to further a short-term goal....all because we've been told it's for our own protection."

For years now, Carter and her administration have been committing abuses, violating human rights, and have answered to no one for it. When I think about the faces of the prisoners I saw in Genosha, or my own mother being held for ransom, the only regret I have about turning against them was that I didn't do it sooner.

"Benjamin Franklin once said 'those who would give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary security will find they inherit neither.' And the incident today in Nebraska is just one of many examples that prove it."

As I speak, the Mansion's internal computer actually compiles all known data regarding the mission and sends it via email to various news outlets across the nation.

"Today was the culmination of a long and intricate plot carried out by the international terrorist organization HYDRA, which has been responsible for countless atrocities in Eastern and Western Europe, Africa, and the Middle East. Led by a known neo-fascist named Helmut Zemo, they commandeered a small tactical nuclear device, with the intent to launch it into high orbit and set off an EMP which would have brought Western Civilization crashing down."

I still have no idea what happened to Zemo. He may have been killed in the blast, but I can't be sure. If he's still alive, he may be just as dangerous as the Red Skull.

"A good man gave his life to stop the missile from launching. The fact that there was only an underground detonation, rather than a global blackout, is thanks to him. I doubt he'd want me to give his name, but anyone who's spent enough time in the service has heard it at one point or another."

I remember hearing campfire stories about Nick Fury, incredible stories about beyond-black-ops operations that shaped entire countries, saving the world time and time again without anyone knowing. At the time I thought they were just tall tales, exaggerated myths about a man who disappeared from everything but history books. Having met the man and seen him in action? I don't think they were giving him enough credit.

"My point is this: HAMMER and its subsidiaries have lost track of themselves. They've become so focused on solidifying their own control, on subjugating and dominating the people they're supposed to protect, that they have lost the ability to effectively combat the forces of real and genuine evil in the world. And I think it's high time to offer an alternative."

The first time I met Nick Fury, he proposed that I lead a project he referred to as the Avenger Initiative. With the alliances I've made with Iron Man and Thor, as well as the likes of Miss Marvel and the Vision and others, I believe it's time that it becomes a reality.

"The alternative to the tyranny of HAMMER is simple: liberty. A confederation of free men and women, devoted to a cause, to protect not only the security of the people, but their freedoms and rights as well. A group that will fight against the dictators and the power-mad, without attempting to assume control ourselves. The Earth's mightiest heroes, gathered into one place, to defend against evil, not for profit or power, not because we're hired or coerced into doing it.....but because it's simply the right thing to do."

This is going to be a gamble, especially with HAMMER still in control of the media, able to twist anything I say or do against me. I have to rely on the people to have faith in me.

"Together, the often unregistered and illegal superheroes of the country have saved countless lives, against threats too powerful to handle alone. Against the creature in Times Square, and again against the Red Skull's attempted invasion in San Francisco. When the bureaucratic and bloated machinery of the government has failed you, the private citizens acting on conscience alone have succeeded. And the Avengers will continue to do so, being there when others can't or won't. And I will be there on the front lines, fighting for the one thing that truly matters in this world: freedom."

I pull my mask over my face and raise my shield, the icons of my father, and the legacy of great men.

"I am Captain America. And this is my Declaration of Independence."

 

[Eddie Brock]

"Sir, it appears he's made his own armor."

I grimace. "Noted!"

With a swing of his mighty gauntlet, Obadiah knocks me across the chin and sends me flying through the air. God, that suit is big. I crash through the front doors of Stark Enterprises, skittering across the floor of the lobby. Obadiah puts his oversized hands on both sides of the door frame and opens a hole large enough for him to enter. He barely fits in the building.

"Fitting, isn't it? I'm going to kill you, and I'm going to tear your father's building to the ground."

"You always were one for overcompensation, Obadiah," I grunt. I charge two repulsor blasts, one in each hand. "But it's not the size of the dog in the fight!" I fire both repulsor blasts simultaneous. To my horror, they appear as effective as Nerf darts. Figured that big hull of his would be durable.

"It's amusing, in a way," Obadiah remarks. He takes a step forward, the top of his helmet scratching across the ceiling. "Watching you trying to squirm your way out of this. Watching the wheels turn in your head. Until you reach the ultimate conclusion..."

He raises up his arm, slamming his fist into the ground and sending a shockwave right at me. The shockwave lifts me off my feet again, throwing me against the elevator doors. I dent them like tin cans.

"...you can't beat me! I outlasted your father! I outlasted the Board! I even outlasted your precious criminal justice system! And I'm going to outlast you!"

Obadiah charges.

"Hey, Jarvis, how's the targeting computer on this thing?"

"Top of the line."

"Good." Obadiah's almost on top of me. I charge yet another round of repulsor blasts. "Help me aim for the eyes!" Two tiny targeting reticules appear over the lenses on Obadiah's helmet. I fire just moments before Obadiah crashes into me. We break through the elevator doors and go tumbling into the elevator shaft. Obadiah's oversized armor gets stuck between the cramped walls.

"Clever, Tony. As usual." In the darkness, I can see that only one lens is still glowing. Must've disabled the other. That'll help. "Let me show you what a real repulsor blast should do!" The giant repulsor on Obadiah's palm glows like a floodlight in the darkness.

"Jarvis, reroute all power to primary shields!"

Even with maximum shielding, Obadiah's repulsor blast hits me like a ton of bricks. It even cracks the plate glass covering my powercore. Furthermore, it put a huge dent in my energy levels - as I had to expend so much to survive the blast. I need to move this fight somewhere where I'm not forced to simply absorb those because I can take three, maybe four, more direct hits like that.

Obadiah dislodges himself, landing over me as rubble comes crashing down. I watch as his repulsor begins to glow again. "Tony? You still alive in there?"

"Sir, the elevator!"

I smirk. "Good eye, Jarvis." I lift a glowing repulsor of my own, but Obadiah doesn't budge. Of course he doesn't. He knows my repulsors can't touch his armor. Unfortunately for him, I'm not aiming for his armor. "Heads up." My repulsor blast tears through the safety cables keeping the elevator suspended. It comes flying down at Obadiah, and he's got nowhere to go.

The elevator slams into Obadiah, and his bulky body protects me from harm. Unfortunately, Obadiah also lands on top of me. In the confined space of the elevator shaft, I can't simply roll out from under him. I'm going to need to lift him. With a grunt, I get my arms around him as I fire up the boots in my feet. A few kicks and starts later, and I'm able to push Obadiah out into the lobby, and then outside altogether.

Obadiah rolls over. Guess when the elevator hit, his helmet crashed against his head. Wish I could say I felt sorry for him. As he gets up, I take note of the fact that his right lens is the busted one. I'll have to try to stay on that side. "Cute, Tony, but useless. I can take everything you can give me."

"Not everything," I reply. "Jarvis, open the uplink to the D.E.M."

"But, sir--"

"Jarvis, when he's right, he's right," I admit. "My repulsor blasts aren't even registering, and I'm not willing to wager that I'd fare any better by punching and kicking him repeatedly. The longer this fight goes on, the weaker I'm going to get. My only hope is a quick and decisive strike. End it before it gets started."

If Jarvis were capable of typical human interaction, this is where I imagine he would sigh. "Very well, sir."

Contacting D.E.M...

Obadiah opens fire with the miniature Gatling gun mounted to his wrist. An intriguing design. Unfortunately, the Gatling gun's on his right wrist. He's compensating for his lack of vision on that side by forcing me to strafe to his left. Clever bastard.

"Voice signature verification: Tony Stark."

Voice signature confirmed.
Access granted.
...
Welcome to the Deus Ex Machina, Mr. Stark.

The Deus Ex Machina. A side project I've been working on for just such an occasion. In traditional Greek theater, the climax was usually resolved with the help of a god or goddess. The actor playing such god or goddess was lifted by a crane and lowered onto stage. Deus ex machina. God from the machine.

My Deus Ex Machina is a little more modern. To describe it in the simplest terms, it's a satellite equipped with a superpowered unibeam. Input your coordinates, and it strikes from above with more punch than my armor could ever hope to pack. It has the possibility to revolutionize warfare - eliminating the need for traditional bombers or even missiles. Of course, that's precisely why I've kept it a secret. The technology is too new and too dangerous. What's to stop the bad guys from getting a hold of it and setting the coordinates for the White House or the Capitol Building?

Even now, I'm running enormous risk by using it. The problem with a secret project of this magnitude is that there's virtually no way to discretely test it. The slightest miscalibration, and the beam could hit downtown Los Angeles. Hell, I don't even know if the blast radius is going to be so large that it hits me. Unfortunately, I don't have a choice. The D.E.M. is the best way to put Obadiah down, once and for all.

Uploading coordinates...

"Sir, I feel obliged to advise you against this," Jarvis interjects. "The D.E.M. is far too dangerous to use without proper field testing."

A missile from Obadiah's left wrist whizzes past me and hits the front steps leading to the main building of Stark Enterprises. "Jarvis, this is the field test. If I'm going to expose this project, I'm going to do it only when I absolutely have to - and that's now!"

Getting into position...

"Awfully quiet there, Tony. Planning something?"

Another missile narrowly misses me. This one destroys what's left of the fountain in the courtyard. "Like you said, Obadiah. The wheels are turning."

D.E.M. in position.

"You've amused me up until now, but it's time we end this."

"Couldn't agree me."

Obadiah raises his gauntlet, ready to fire a killing blow. "Stand still, will you?"

"I was just going to ask you the same thing."

"Fire!"

A flash of light. And then? Silence. When the shockwave hits me, it feels like the ocean surf washing over me. I stumble backwards as pieces of rubble soar in every direction. And it's all so quiet. The blinding brightness of it all lingers in the air for a moment before giving to the darkness of the night. And when my eyes adjust, there's nothing there.

Where Obadiah once stood, there's a crater and a few pieces of scrap metal. Just like that, the man was reduced to nothingness. I look down and am surprised to see Obadiah's faceplate, resting motionlessly at my feet. A relic. A memory. I pick it up. I've never been the sentimental type, but I think I'll keep this.

"Sir?"

I allow the quietness of it all to wash over me for a second more. "Delete all blueprints and schematics for the D.E.M. Schedule a dis-assembly of the satellite." Too much power. More power than the human race is equipped to handle. God from the machine. I'm no God.

"What about Pepper?"

Right. Pepper.

***

Pepper and I are sitting outside, waiting for the emergency crews to arrive. She insisted that she was fine, but I was having none of it. A once-over couldn't hurt. I've got my helmet in my lap, right next to Obadiah's faceplate. "You outdid yourself, Pep."

"Me?" she laughs. "I watched that whole fight. I think you're the one who outdid yourself."

I smirk. Wish I could share her enthusiasm, but the fight hardly ended how I would've liked. For better or worse, Obadiah didn't deserve to die. Lethal force is never a preferable option. I only wish he hadn't forced my hand. "Well, I'm nothing without the suit. And the suit's nothing without you. So..."

Pepper smiles, and we allow some silence to pass between us.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I say, "Listen, Pepper, this whole situation with Obadiah has taught me a lot about myself." I glance at her. She's listening intently. "And one of the things I've learned is that I can count the people that care about me on one hand. And there's a reason for that. I've spent most of my life burning bridges. So when someone comes into my life who does care, I take notice."

"And I do care, Tony," Pepper says assuringly as she puts her hand on top of mine. "You're not the person I thought you were when I first met you."

"Thank you. That means a lot," I reply sincerely. Clearing my throat, I continue, "Anyway, what I'm getting at is that I don't get people who care about me a whole lot, so when I do, I don't want to let them slip away. And I don't want to let you slip away, Pepper." I sigh. Christ, I'm bad at this. "Listen, I'm not very good at expressing myself, but I guess what I'm trying to say is that you're a very special person in my life, and I..."

Pepper locks eyes with me, anticipating what I'm going to say.

"Pepper!"

Pepper and I both turn to see Happy standing there. Pepper jumps up and runs to him, throwing her arms around him and laughing joyfully.

"When I heard he had taken you, I didn't know what to do!"
"It's okay. You're here now."
"God, I was so afraid."
"Me too."

Pepper buries her head in Happy's chest.

"You can't scare me like that. Promise?"
"I promise."
"So the paramedics aren't here yet?"
"No, not yet."
"Well, you look alright. Do you feel alright?"
"A little shaken up."

I love you, Pepper.
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