The All-Star Marvel RPG: Season 1.5

[J'adore]

My eyes widen as Kitty's message barks out over the radio. That means they've been rumbled, which also means that they're in danger. Her and Kurt. I turn to Wanda, who I still trust about as much as I can throw Rasputin, and set my jaw determinedly.

"That's our cue," I say "Let's go,"

The two of us sweep down low over the trees, scanning with hawk-like eyes for the scouting party. I see the pair just outside the compound holding down what appears to be a cast-off from the Hunchback of Notre Damme. Just as we angle ourselves towards them, the night opens up with tracer as guns start firing from inside the compound. I dodge the first barrage, but the next one clips the edge of my left wing. I grunt in pain, heading down to the grass a few hundred metres away from Kurt and Kitty.

"Ugh," I spit as I land heavily.

Already I can see a group of three Brotherhood mutants heading towards us in the twilight of the early morning, perhaps from some checkpoint in the forest. I pull one of the machine pistols that I have strapped to my leg and open fire on the Brotherhood mutants. The first one goes down without a hope, my gunfire hitting him full on in the chest. I don't care how much body armour you wear, that's going to knock you on your ass. Luckily the group appears to consist of Mutates who are...well to be honest their mutation is purely superficially physical. It's sort of unfortunate for them.

The other two try to bundle me, one hitting me hard in the side like a footballer. I grunt and stay on my feet, cracking the butt of my Glock on the bastard's head, and it comes away sticky, to my disgust. The guy slumps to the floor, moaning incoherently. The third guy takes advantage of my distraction to try and shoot me full in the chest with a pump action shotgun. I realise what I'm doing at the last second and grab the barrel, forcing it up into the air as it goes off. Let me tell you, the barrel of a gun after you fire it? It's hot. I butted that guy in the face as well. He fell just as easily.

I make my way over to Kurt and Kitty, wondering where Wanda is. I give a reassuring grin, then frown at the blood on Pryde's face.

"You guys okay? We need to skip ahead to the next stage - contacting the converts,"

Wanda watches from the skies, her team-mate being quick to re-act to the sudden attack. She arches an eyebrow, before her astral fades away from her body. The girl ruined it! She ruined it all!

Her astral fades through to the Brotherhood's base, where she comes face to face with the leader of the pact, her alleged ''father'', Magneto.

"It is time that I sought to recruit Ms. Grey to the cause."

"Hault! Keep your eye on Storm, the african one. And her friends, Havok and Jubilee. They will cause you trouble, trust me father..." And with those quiet words spoken...the astral fades in to the darkness.



The witch opens her eyes, staring down at her fellow X-Men. She quickly hovers down, noticing two sniper guards in the corner of her right eye. Should she take these men down? Or should she wait for them to attack. No, she must prove her trust, and there is only one way how. "I suggest all of you stand back--"

Stretching out her arms and flicking her wrists, a large cloud of red smoke explodes before the group of them, conjuring the two guards from where they were previously stationed. Wanda's eyes slowly fade back to their normal colour, a red hue still faint within her Iris. "Snipers."

She smirks and watches as the guards begin to suffocate, before falling to the ground. Now, worthless, dead, peasents. "Please tell me you got a visual on where Emma's operatives were..."

 

[Optikal]

Spoiler

The Kóga Mountains. Japan - 1338

In another land, a man woke up from his uncomfortable position on the ground. He woke up to realize that he was sprawled on rocky ground, seemingly somewhere in the mountains of…somewhere. He reached up to rub his aching forehead only to notice a steel cuff with a few links of chain hanging on the end. There was another on his left hand also, this one etched with the word Ichi. A breeze wafted through the trees, and the sudden chill made him realize that he wasn't wearing a shirt, only red pants. The man looked down at his body, staring in wonder at the tan muscles, confused by the unfamiliarity of his own appendages.

Is this my body? he thought, running his hands along his hard stomach. How did I get this way? Why am I lying here?

The man stood up with a wave of nausea rushing to his brain. I've got to get help. But do I need it?

Then he noticed them. All of them. Numerous little puncture holes in his body with stitching over them. Long, pencil thin gashes from his hip to underneath his underarm. Blood stains on his red pants. Yes, he needed help.

His brain yelled at him to run, but his body went into an autopilot stealth mode. Instead of a normal jog to find people who might help him, the man crouched in the shadows of his surroundings, jumped onto tree branches, and moved without a sound.

How do I know how to do this?

A sound froze every muscle in his body. Footsteps, his brain thought immediately. Fast, like someone's running.

His eyes darted to the right, and he saw it. A girl. She was young looking, wearing a white flowing shirt and loose pants, hands in fists pumping away, her hair held back by a white headband. Her face did not seem strained, but he could hear her breath labored by the exercise. He breathed with her. The man wanted to leave the cover of the shadows, but then he heard another sound and froze.

To the girl's right, someone jumped out of the bushes and tackled the girl to the ground. She grunted in surprise and tried to fight off her attacker, but could not get up. Then the man acted.

Faster than a tiger attacking its kill, he jumped out from behind his cover, landing a swift kick to the attacker's middle and knocking him off the girl.

The attacker was tall, wearing gear similar to the girl's, but black. "What on Earth are you doing?" he yelled, his face covered with a mask.

The attacker leapt to his feet, backing away from the mysterious rescuer.

"Get away from her!" the man screamed back. The sound of his voice startled him. It was just as unfamiliar as his own name.

"No, you get away!" the attacker yelled, taking a fighting stance.

Instinctively, the man took his own. I don't want to fight, yet everything inside me tells me that I must!

But why?

The attacker threw a high punch that was easily dodged and immediately hit in the back of the head for. The man turned around to block the stream of kicks and punches from the attacker, who kept hitting in amazement that the man did not tire or budge. When his attacks were finished, the man reached back, and although moving his hand forward a mere six inches in front of his chest, the punch sent the attacker into the bushes he jumped out of, except about twenty more feet back. The man could feel the power rushing through his body, as if charged by the fight like a battery.

What is this feeling? Why does fighting come naturally to me?

"Sir!"

A call from the girl startled the man out of his daze. "Sir! Are you all right?" she asked. She looked over the bare-chested man before her. He was very handsome with rich brown eyes and hair, and chiseled muscles. She had to keep from blushing, especially when this stranger just beat up her friend.

"Are you bleeding?" she asked, walking up to the man and squinting at his bare body.

"I…I don't think so," he replied slowly.

"Thank you for saving me, although it wasn't necessary," the girl said cheerfully. "This run is part of my training. My father runs the dojo here, and one of our exercises is to run two miles and then successfully fight off an 'attacker'. It's for self-defense, but you obviously have enough for yourself to demonstrate on my friend Ryu over there."

The man nodded, but did not say anything. He glanced in the general direction of where painful groans echoed from behind the bushes.

"May I ask you your name? You know, civilians aren't supposed to go all the way out here because we use these grounds to train in," the girl continued. "Of course, the civilians here think we're some sort of heathens or-"

"Where is here?" interrupted the man.

Miko was taken aback with his questions. She looked at the odd visitor with a slight smile before realizing that he asked her a genuine question. "You don't know where you are, sir?"

The man shook his head. If I knew, I wouldn't be asking, now would I?

"How about your name?

The man opened his mouth, but shook his head again. "I... I don't know. Maybe it is this..." He held out his left arm to show her the faint etching in his wrist cuff. There were more scars along the inside of his arm.

"Oh my," the girl gasped. "Well, Ichi, how about I take you to my father? We'll help you get your bearings here and maybe you'll remember after some rest and first aid for your cuts."

The man, now called Ichi, nodded and followed the girl's notion. She was very nice. Maybe she and her father could help him.

"But, uh, before we go, do you mind…?" the girl pointed back at the bushes, where Ryu tried to stand up.

Ichi walked back and easily picked up the wrongly-abused boy. "I'm really sorry," he apologized when they started walking.

Just around the mountain, Ichi's breath was stolen by the beautiful scenery before him. Further ahead, at the top of a flight of stairs, was a stone building, ancient and oriental-looking. "Are we going there?" he asked, stopping to stare around him.

"Yep!" giggled the girl. "My name is Miko, and that's where I live, my father's dojo. Welcome to Kóga, the home of the Hand!"
​

​

The Kóga Mountains. Japan - 1338


"So you don't remember anything about yourself, Ichi?" asked Kagenobu Yoshioka , a stern-looking man, from behind his work desk. Miko's father was largely built and strong, his face gave the sternest of expressions as he talked.

Ichi shook his head. It was amazingly quiet inside the white office, despite its location in the middle of the dojo. With windows on both sides, Ichi could see the rows and rows of practicing students, ranging from young kids, to teenagers Miko's age, and older adults. On his right stood Miko, who wrapped a towel around an ice pack for her friend Ryu, who stayed in a cot against the far wall. He felt slightly guilty for his condition.

"Miko says you are quite the fighter," Kagenobu continued. "Not much impresses her much since I raised her in my dojo, not even her old man, so I am very curious of your ability…especially since you don't have any kind of memories of even learning."

Ichi shrugged his shoulders. Yes, it was impressive to these fighting types of people, but it scared him deep down. What kind of life had he led that requires such a high degree of fighting skills?

"Because I have many students who come here to train, I'm sure I have an open room for you to stay here until you have recovered your memory," Miko's father continued, looking into his eyes.

Uncomfortable, Ichi glanced at Miko. Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement as she returned the gaze. She smiled and nodded her head, urging Ichi to take the offer.

"Are you sure?" Ichi asked, very wary of their kindness.

"Absolutely," Kagenobu said, smiling. "It does cost money to rent out our rooms, but under your circumstances, I will provide you a room and food if you promise to train here and let me see your talent. It will be a fair exchange and a great experience for all of us."

Miko sneaked a glance at her father; she couldn't believe how generous he treated the stranger. Not noticing Miko's surprise, Ichi smiled and nodded his head. "Thank you so much for your kindness," he said.

"You're quite welcome" replied Kagenobu. "I'll see if there is a private suite open and call our doctor so he can take a look at your physical health. Just in case there's anything wrong that we can't tell just by looking at you. Miko, take care of Ichi, I will be right back."

"Yes, father," she said, getting up. She walked to a closet, pulled out some folded garments, and walked back to Ichi with the clothes in a neat stack. "These are a few clothes you can wear for now: a karate gi, our uniform sweat pants and shirts. When you're training, there's not much room for fashion."

"Arigato," Ichi said, bowing his head and taking the pile. With skilled and graceful hands, she held out one of Ichi's wrists. She pulled out a bobby pin from her headband and began to pick at a small key hole with the pin. Ichi studied her face as she worked. Something about her almond-shaped eyes and smooth, round cheeks eased his thoughts.

Then he saw her.

The image flashed so suddenly in his mind.

A girl, with long hair tied back with a flowing ribbon and almond-shaped eyes like Miko's, appeared so beautiful to Ichi. She smiled at him, then disappeared, leaving only a stream of pink leaves.

Miko looked up to find Ichi staring at her and blushed. She felt his brown eyes flicker with energy, sensing a strong force raging within his mind, but unable to show itself. The metal cuff clicked open. "The other students will call you Ichi because I know you'll be the number one student in this dojo," said Miko as she smiled and handed Ichi the metal cuff with his namesake on it.

Ichi snapped out of his reverie and smiled back at Miko. Perhaps recovering his memory wouldn't take too long after all. But who was that girl? He felt a deep connection to her, although he couldn't remember anything about her. As he sat while Miko worked on his other wrist, Kagenobu returned to the office.

"Your room is ready" he said. "It has everything you'll need for now, but if there's anything else you'd like, just ask myself or my daughter. I am about to start a class with my advanced students, so I'll let Miko show you to your quarters. Welcome to my dojo. I expect to see you tomorrow at noon on the mats right outside my office. I want to see exactly how skilled you are, since you knocked out my best student".

Exiting with many more thanks and apologies, Ichi followed Miko past the fighting mats and up wooden stairs down a long hall lined with many numbered doors. They finally stopped at a door at the very end, where Miko gave the key to her guest. "Father's room is right across from yours," she said. "I suppose he really wants to keep watch over you. My room is down the other end of the hall; we separate men from women on each floor, although you're welcome to visit whomever you please. If you need anything, just ask me, but everyone here is very friendly…unless, of course, you're fighting them."

 

[Andy C.]

The compound is nearly half a kilometer inside the fenced-off perimeter. It's a three-story manor with dark red brick, a lot of Gothic architecture, probably built back before the Civil War. This was probably some kind of farming plantation back then.

Judging by the perimeters of trenchwork and pillboxes surrounding the main building, I don't doubt that Magneto's repurposed it for other means since then.

Gambit is able to keep us moving along pathways that he knows aren't well-covered, blind spots in the sentries' patrols. With Colossus and the others causing a distraction along the outside, most of the resistance we encounter is dealt with pretty easily.

I pick off the rooftop snipers from well outside their own weapons range--aiming long distances is infinitely easier when all you have to do is look at whoever you want to hit. The beams from my optic blast are bright and loud, but as far as we can tell the only ones who would see them are the ones that were hit by them.

Just short of the main building, we duck down into one of the trenches and head toward a hatch that leads underground.

"You're sure this is the best way inside?" Frost asks, a diamond-like sheen growing over her skin as Gambit works the locks.

"The fancy castle's mostly fo' show, 'cept for Magneto's private rooms," he says. "An' b'lieve you me, I ain't in any hurry to get inta it wit him unless we absolutely have to. The real action here is undagroun'."

A paramilitary installation operating underneath an old mansion. As much as I hate to say it, this place seems to bear an awful lot of similarities to Westchester.

The lock gives way and Gambit opens the hatch, turning and giving a wink to Rogue.

"See? I can be good for somethin' after all."

Rogue ignores LeBeau and heads down the staircase. LeBeau follows closely behind, with myself and Frost covering the rear.

"Those two seem to be getting along swimmingly," Frost says with an amused grin.

"I hadn't noticed," I say, sweeping my field of vision from side to side, keeping an eye out for any more guards.

"No, I don't suppose you would have," she says. "She may be stonewalling him now, but he's chipping away at it. Just keep an eye on those two, and make sure they don't go running off together, or they might not come back any time soon."

"I'll keep that in mind," I say dismissively. "But that's not exactly something I'm focusing on."

"You know, for someone who's spent most of their life training to be a loyal by-the-book soldier, you seem to turn a blind eye quite a bit towards fraternizing between the ranks."

"Honestly? Given that we're probably going to spend the rest of our lives in the brig after this, I don't think our ranks matter that much."

I'm honestly a little surprised by actually being able to say that out loud. I've done everything I can to keep the morale high, to play the part of the fearless leader.....but really, even if we get out of here in one piece, will Colonel Haller let us get away with it?

THOOM....THOOM.....THOOM....

As Gambit and Rogue round a corner, the sound of huge and heavy footsteps resounds through the metallic hallways.

"Umm, Cyclops?" Rogue says. "I think we've run into a roadblock."

I round the corner and see what's coming.

....that is one hell of a roadblock.

 

[Mr. Majestic]

[FONT=&quot]Hulk looked down on the man infront of him. Rick Jones the collective memory Hulk shared Banner told him. He talked about hurting people, Hulk didn’t care about hurting people, and they were there to hurt Hulk. So Hulk was going to hurt them first. And then he talked of friends. He tightened his grip on the little man.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Hulk doesn’t have friends. Banner has no friends.” He was sure of that, Banner was a puny human, the people in that town before Bruce embraced Hulk even just a little had probably forgotten about him. Banner however, did have a friend, and he was right there in the Hulk's grip.
[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]-In Banner’s Mind-[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] “JESUS!” Banner fell over as he looked up at the thing that had come this way. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Hey there Brucey? Miss me?” There he was, big as day, grey and big and not tied to some kind of structure. Grey had somehow managed to free himself from his restraints that Bruce had seen him in so many times.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“H-h-h-h-how!?” Banner stammered as he rose from the ground. He looked up at the slightly smaller, but still very large Grey Hulk.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Beats me, have you seen it ‘round here?” He was referring to the other hulk that they were both familiar with, it was big and scaly and reptilian. It was brutal and sadistic, it was the Devil.[/FONT]

Well if this is how he treats people who claims to be his friend I can see why people are not jumping to be his best bud. I have to convince him that I’m not his foe because I’m pretty sure he is going to squeeze me till I pop.

“Hulk listen friends don’t hurt each other they protect each other. When those helicopters fired those missiles I stopped them from hitting you…” I’m going to have to figure out how I did that by the way. “…because friends don’t let friends get hurt. You say you don’t have any friends well I’m letting you know you do now. All you have to do is trust me and I promise I won’t let them hurt you.” Well try and hurt you at least by watching the actions that took place I’m really making sure you don’t hurt them.

I hope my words reach him because if they don’t I’m 100 percent sure that this is not going to end pretty.

 

[Carnage27]

Shadowcat
​

I make my way over to Kurt and Kitty, wondering where Wanda is. I give a reassuring grin, then frown at the blood on Pryde's face.

"You guys okay? We need to skip ahead to the next stage - contacting the converts,"

I nod at Warren and wiped the blood off my face, "Yea, I'm fine. I'm a lot tougher than I look, Angel."

Then I turn to find Wanda suffocating a group of Brotherhood operatives.

She smirks and watches as the guards begin to suffocate, before falling to the ground. Now, worthless, dead, peasents. "Please tell me you got a visual on where Emma's operatives were..."

"Why the hell did you kill them?" I shoot accusingly at her. "You could have just as easily incapacitated them."

I turn back to Angel, "Where are we headed?"

 

[Catman_prb]

I nod at Warren and wiped the blood off my face, "Yea, I'm fine. I'm a lot tougher than I look, Angel."

Then I turn to find Wanda suffocating a group of Brotherhood operatives.

"Why the hell did you kill them?" I shoot accusingly at her. "You could have just as easily incapacitated them."

I turn back to Angel, "Where are we headed?"

I frown at Wanda. Something is seriously off about that girl, and I have a feeling this is going to end bloody. But I smile and put on that special diplomatic face that I have for when Monet stops putting out.

"Kitty, you need to be prepared for us to do some unpleasant things to get this job done," I tell her, my tern stone, but my facial expression trying to get across the fact that I was on her side...being diplomatic is hard...

"We're going to head into the compound and meet up with codenames Storm, Jubilee and Havok. Frost has scheduled the rendez-vous in the bath house, which is on the side of the compound closest to us. After that we're going to power through and support Scott's team. This plan's already going to ****," I explain to Kurt and Kitty.

My wing aches where the bullet clipped it. I can't really see too well, what with how my neck doesn't rotate that way, but the usually white parts of my wing are a deep red. Eek. That would be an embarrassing way to day. Bleeding out from a wing injury. I shake it off and make my way over the rest of the ground to the guard post. I'm equal parts angry and grateful that Wanda killed the guards - it makes my life that much easier, but there was a calloussness about it that I didn't like.

Our little clandestine special forces squad makes it inside the perimiter without too much of a disaster. No doubt Magneto will be dispatching his lieutenants and top guards out onto patrol to watch out for us. I can see the bath house a few hundred metres away. A lone figure moves out of the shadows towards us. I pull out my gun and track the target, preparing to take fire. A lump of rock flies out of the ground, hurtling towards me and I just dodge it. The figure steps into the light, revealing armour that looks awfully bullet-proof.

"Hey kids, you ain't allowed back here," the guys deep voice rumbles.

"Oh ****," I gasp, then look at Kitty "Get to the bath house! The passcode is Charles. Go!"

I turn to face Avalanche, one of Magneto's heavy hitters. You know those kids that throw rocks at birds for the sheer thrill of it? I hate having wings.

 

[Catman_prb]

I open my eyes. The last thing I remember was getting hit with a car - bigger and more heavily armoured than the ones I have encountered so far. The speed it was going would have killed most men, but I am merely dazed and slightly bruised. The Skull is long gone though. I pick myself up and walk over to where Mjolnir lies on the battlefield. I pick it up and tie it around the loop of my belt, before moving over to the Captain.

"An honour to fight by your side again, Captain," I say, bowing my head graciously in a manner of respect. I look at the heavily muscled purple man.

"And I am sure that you too would be a worthy ally, creature," I say, my tone brittle.

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Previously

Spoiler

Cambridge, England

August 14th, 1665
​

Sue and I walk down the road into the town where activity is bustling in preparation of the festival.

"The first step to getting Professor Simmons back is to find out where he's being held."

"I got an idea."

Sue reaches out and taps a passer-by on the shoulder. "Excuse me, sir," she says in a flawless English accent. "The trial for this witch is this evening. Do you happen to know where he's being held in the meantime?"

"Up the hill," the man answers. "In the stockade."

"Thank you, sir. You've been most kind."

The man nods and continues on his journey. Sue turns to me and smirks.

"Nice accent. Where'd that come from?"

"Drama camp when I was fourteen. I had to go with Johnny in exchange for spending the next summer at science camp."

I chuckle and head down the road towards the stockade. We're almost halfway there when Sue gently elbows me in my ribs. "Don't look behind you," she mumbles under he breath, "but I think we're being followed."

Of course, whenever someone tells you not to do something, I turn to see a trio of men staring at our backs intently. Their eyes seem to widen collectively as soon as I spot them. "Get him," one of them yells.

"What did I say? Not look! Split up!"

I run to the left while Sue takes off to the right. Two of the men follow after me while one goes after Sue. I dash through the streets, cutting through side alleys and trying to lose the two men. "Stop, Doctor Richards! You are in violation of Time Code 7412!"

One of them calling out my name almost causes me to stop dead in my tracks, but I keep going. "By order of Kang, Minister of Time, you are to cease and desist your pollution of the time stream!"

I don't have time to dwell on the words and what they mean. Instead I leap over a cart being pushed by a peddler and run up a flight of stairs and into the entrance of a school. I jog down the hallways and dart into a nearby classroom where a few students are quietly studying. I close the door behind me and walk up to the blackboard, doing my best do fit in and act like I belong in case they come in after me. I pick up a piece of chalk and jot down a few equations on the blackboard.

"Excuse me, sir?" One of the students asked with a raised hand. "How are you? What are you doing?"

I furrow my brow and look at the young man. He seems vaguely familiar for some reason I ignore his question and instead peek out the door. The two men chasing me are running down the other end of the hall and disappear around a corner.

"Sir?" The young man asks again. "What is that?"

I turn back and look at him and then back at the blackboard. "Uhh, Calculus," I answer absent-mindedly. I head out into the hallway and stop short halfway down the hall. I know where I am. Cambridge University and I know that young man from a painting I saw of him in one of my text books. He was older then, but I know that's him.

Sir Issac Newton.

Reed

I almost jump out of my skin at the sound of Sue's voice. "Sue! Where are you?"

Right behind you. I turned invisible to get away from whoever that was following us. Who were they? It didn't make any sense what they were talking about, something with time code violations?

"I think it was me. I think I just invented Calculus....wait, that means....Newton was a dirty thief! He copied me, that little....and to think, I wrote a paper in college defending him! That son of a-"

Let's focus, shall we? We only have a few hours left before Doctor Simmons is burned alive, and even less time before we're stranded in 1665. Let's go.

"Alright, just change back so I can see you. This is kind of creepy."

I can't. My era clothes aren't compatible with my abilities. I had to....strip before turning invisible.

"......You know, I've always wanted to become a member of the 345 Years Back Club.....Sue? You still here? Sue?....Darling, light of my life?"

C'mon, let's go.

I hear Sue's footsteps against the stone floor and follow her down the hallway and out the school's door and down the street towards the stockade.
​

I push through the crowds of people up towards the top of the hill where Doctor Simmons is held captive. Sue is....somewhere around here, I guess.

Reed. Those men are back. They're following us again.

"Alright, here's the plan," I mumble under my breath. "I'll run off to distract them while you sneak into the stockade and find Simmons."

Alright. Just be careful.

"Same to you."

I cut to the right suddenly and take off down a side street. The three men from before are right behind me. Cutting into an alley to the left, I stop suddenly as I almost smack into a wall at the end of the small street. A dead end. "Doctor Richards," a voice calls from behind. The three men stand at the opening of the alley. "If you come with us now, there will be no problems."

"Who are you people?"

"We speak for Kang," one of them answers.

"The Minister of Time," another one continues. "Your continued existence is polluting the time stream."

"Listen, fellas. I'm sorry about what I did, but I just came back here to rescue another doctor. Maybe the three of you can help us rescue him and get us back to our own timeline."

"Negative."

"The 21st century is not enlightened enough to handle the burden of time travel. As such, all travelers must be exterminated before time can be further diluted."

"You are to come with us to the 31st century to stand trial for your crimes."

"What are my crimes, exactly?"

"Your pollution of the late 17th century here, as well as the dilution in the early 21st century."

"Enough. Come with us and stand trial."

The three men start to approach me. No weapons so far. I honestly expected some kind of laser beam or weapon. "Well....if you guys can see the future....you must have seen this coming!"

I swing and elongate my arm, stretching out a few extra feet and cold-cocking the three men with one swift punch. I retract my arm and grab my fist. "Ouch...."

A trumpet goes off somewhere and I'm suddenly reminded of the task at hand. I step over the semi-conscious men and run down the alleys towards the middle of town, where Doctor Simmons is on a stage and being strung up to a wooden pole with kindling and logs at his feet.

We're too late. Sue must not have gotten there in time. I have to do something. A hand brushes against my shoulder and I feel someone's breath around my ear. Reed, what do we do?

The gears in my head start spinning and working into overtime. Suddenly, a drastic plan pops in my head.

"Alright, Sue....just follow my lead."

I run through the crowd and jump up on to the stage. "Spare him, kind people! I beg of you, spare this poor man's life! He is not a witch...I'm the witch!"

The crowd lets out a collective gasp and I look around, almost uncertain of where to go from here. Something passes by me and up towards Simmons. Sue's taking my lead.

"Yes, I am a witch. Watch!"

Holding my arms out, I begin to stretch them out towards the crowd. A cry of horror goes out and the crowd turns from shocked and outraged, to angry. "Burn him! Burn him!"

I scowl and stretch my legs along with my arms, growing taller and larger. "You dare doubt my power! I will show you the true power of the witch!"

I turn back to see the ropes falling off of Doctor Simmons. He looks confused as something pulls him away from the stage. I take Sue's cue and shrink back down to my regular height. "And now, for my next impression, Jesse Owens!"

I turn and run, leaping off the stage and catching up with Sue and Simmons. I reach into my pocket and pulling out the beacon, hitting the signal. "Doctor Simmons? Lovely to meet you. Reed Richards. How long until Ziegler takes us back?"

"Uhh...five minutes, I suppose."

I turn around and see a mob coming down the street. "Alright, well, hopefully the beacon works while we're on the run."

The three of us take off down the road with the mob giving chase.

 

[Carnage27]

Blade
​

Miami, FL

So this is where my hunt begins. The first hunt of my life that I can actually feel invigorrated to begin. Finally, I'm going after the game that I've dreamed of my entire life. The kind of game I was born and bred to take down, and I can almost taste my excitement on my tongue.

I walk freely in the strong Miami sun, and smile knowing that my adversaries can't do the same. That fact alone gives me the upper hand. According to the dossiers given to me on them, they all sleep during the day and are active at night. So if I can get the jump on them during the day, I stand a good chance of taking them out quickly and quietly.

I've started my search in Miami because it's a port city that doesn't tend to ask a lot of questions. The amount of illegal immigrants that come through the city is proof enough of that. Plus, Genosha Bay is in the Caribbean, meaning this could be an easily accessible path back to the States.

So to the docks I head to ask some questions. And I will get the answers I need. Or else.

 

[Eddie Brock]

"A favor?!" Rhodey practically shouts over the phone. "You could not pick a worse time to come asking me for a favor, Tony! I'm on the phone all day trying to keep your ass out of jail! What did I tell you when we last spoke? I said, 'Lay low.' Does this sound like laying low?"

"Rhodey, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important," I explain calmly, not letting myself lose my patience. I knew to expect this kind of response, and I understand the ridiculousness of my request. Of course, I also know my friend, and I know he'll cave if I approach this the right way. "If you do this for me, it could mean the difference between finding Obadiah and him finding us."

"Tony, I really can't. Even if things weren't so chaotic right now, even if you and I weren't under the watchful eye of the Joint Chiefs, I could not do this for you," Rhodey reasons. "You're asking too much this time, Ton."

"Alright, well, I've got Jarvis all ready to start hacking, so if you want to explain to the Joint Chiefs why I broke into a restricted database--"

"No!" Rhodey sighs. Hook, line, and sinker. "Alright, look, I've got a few favors that I can call in. I'm making no guarantees, but let me tell you this: you are building a lifetime of karma right now. You are going to owe me until the day you die."

I smirk, quite proud of myself. "You're the best, Rhodey."

***

"Whatcha lookin' at now, Boss?"

I glance up from the touchscreen panel on my desk at Happy. "Satellite thermal imaging that Rhodey procured for me." I motion for Happy to come closer. "Take a look." I pull up the entire map of the continental United States, illuminated by patches of blue, yellow, orange, red, and white. "See this?" I tap on a spot on the West Coast.

"Yeah?"

"That's us," I explain. "That's this house." I double tap, and the screen zooms in on the spot. "See how we're burning white hot? That's because all of the tech running out of this place is generating a ton of heat. If you ever go in the basement, you can find the coolant tanks we use to keep Jarvis from running a fever."

"Very funny, sir."

Ignoring Jarvis's outburst, I continue, "This kind of thermal signature is consistent with any facility housing a supercomputer." I tap on another spot nearby. "Stark Enterprises." I tap on a spot to the north. "Microsoft." I bring up the whole map again. "I can tell Jarvis to isolate locations with similar thermal signatures."

As I say this, the thermal dots on the map start to disappear, leaving only the desired subset of locations. I tap the screen again, this time pulling up the satellite image of yesterday's weather patterns.

"By overlaying the thermal scan with the exact weather conditions of yesterday, 6:13 Pacific Standard Time, when Obadiah called, I can eliminate all the locations where it wasn't raining." The little white dots diminish to less than half their number, leaving only the dots under rain clouds. "So now we run through each location, plugging in the coordinates to figure out what we're looking at. We can make a checklist, knocking off each place where Obadiah couldn't be hiding, until we're left with a list of possible candidates."

"How long will that take?"

I sigh. "A little while."

***

"Sir, I believe I have something," Jarvis announces, waking me up out of my chair. On the touchscreen monitor, he isolates one spot. I can tell by the burning white hot center that this building is housing some serious tech. "A private, unlisted residence in South Dakota. The owner went to great lengths to keep his name out of the public record."

South Dakota? Obadiah vacationed there once and raved about it. He always kept a picture on his desk of himself standing knee deep in a crisp, blue lake in front of a mountain. It's not much to go on, but we're running out of time. The fact that Obadiah made that call yesterday shows he's getting ready to make his move. This might be our last shot at beating him to the punch.

"Send the coordinates to Rhodey."
​

 

[Optikal]

Spoiler

Seeing the weapon raised at the other hero, Kallark focuses, firing a shot of his optical beams right at the Skull, smashing the weapon from his hands. On the ground below, Captain america was being pursued by a human HAMMER agent. Gladiator thought to incinerate her but quickly decided that probably wouldn't end well. Instead he turned back to the Skull, "Step down and surrender. You are under arrest!"
​

I open my eyes. The last thing I remember was getting hit with a car - bigger and more heavily armoured than the ones I have encountered so far. The speed it was going would have killed most men, but I am merely dazed and slightly bruised. The Skull is long gone though. I pick myself up and walk over to where Mjolnir lies on the battlefield. I pick it up and tie it around the loop of my belt, before moving over to the Captain.

"An honour to fight by your side again, Captain," I say, bowing my head graciously in a manner of respect. I look at the heavily muscled purple man.

"And I am sure that you too would be a worthy ally, creature," I say, my tone brittle.

The robot had descended from nowhere and taken the Gladiator by surprise. However, the Last Son of Strontia was more than capable of dispatching them. As he destroyed the last one and turned back to the battle at hand but the Skull was gone. GAll around him was a sea of devastation but homeland forces seemed to now have things in their favor and the situation was quickly developing from combat to clean-up.

Gladiator looked upon the Thunderer and Captain America with stern regard. Floating a few feet from the ground he pushed his cloak back from his shoulder and snapped off a short nod of his head, a brief show of acknowledgement for the Son of Odins words.

"I am no creature. I am the Last Son of Strontia, known to the people of this Earth as The Gladiator. I will be here when needed".

Without awaiting an answer, gladiator headed into the sky away from the two men. He touched the small comm device in his ear. "General. How are the others?"

<They're back on the Zeus, Kal. They managed to empty out the building of enemy forces and secure the block. Enemy forces have been disabled and detained and we have a new recruit>

"A new recruit?"

<You can meet him when you get in. The team is almost complete, Kal>

"Good" Kallark answered, "I doubt we have much time before the Kree make themselves truly known to us".


​

 

[Andy C.]

I nod to the Gladiator and watch as he flies away. I can't say I know whose side he's on, but at least so far he's attempted to help out.

Turning my attention back to Thor, I offer a handshake.

"Always a pleasure, Thor," I say. "Shame we couldn't put the Skull down for good, but at least we were able to stop him."

I glance over and see HAMMER Spec Ops agent Maria Hill, practically begging at the chance to pounce at me. I assume the only reason she's holding herself back is because she's waiting for backup to deal with Thor and myself.

"Listen, I may have found a meeting place for us," I say to Thor, thinking of the forgotten SHIELD stronghold underneath the old abandoned Stark Mansion that Wyatt Wingfoot told me about. "Somewhere where those of us who fight the good fight without the consent of the government can meet and make plans. I can't tell you exactly where yet--too many watching eyes right now. But I'll contact you with the exact location when we've gone our separate ways."

I offer him a quick salute, preparing to make a break for it and try to shake off the HAMMER troops that are still cleaning up the battle-scarred city. I make it about ten paces before I feel a hand on my shoulder...

....and after a blink of light, I'm back by the freeway where I'd left my motorcycle, on the other side of the country.

"Decent work, Captain," says Nick Fury, taking off a red-hot device from his jacket, that I assume is his teleportation device, overheating from repeated use. "But the job isn't finished. The Skull got away."

"I know," I say with disappointment. "If I'd been a little faster on the draw after I'd taken off his hand, he'd be finished. Still, at least we stopped him, and we took the Cosmic Cube out of play."

"For now, sure," Fury says, "but my men weren't able to recover it before Carter's people did. That thing is now in HAMMER's custody, which means it just changed hands from one power-crazed fascist to another. I'm sure she'll have their scientists look over it before trying to use it herself, which means there'll be a small window of time where it can be recovered by SHIELD's moles....or by the Skull's. Unless we're the ones who get it, we're really no better off with it in Carter's hands or in the Nazi's."

"And what would make it any better if you had it?" I ask. "What exactly would you do if SHIELD recovered the Cosmic Cube?"

"Simple: lock it up and pretend it doesn't exist," Fury says, almost disinterested. "That kind of power is a good thousand years ahead of anyone on this planet's ability to even really understand, let alone control."

"Hmm, well, I guess that's as good a plan as any," I say, unconvinced of his sincerity. "Anything else before I head out?"

"Just one thing: be ready for an all-out war against you," he says. "Right now most of the media is still reeling from the attack itself, trying to put together bits and pieces of the battle from a million different sources. But Director 13 has got a lot of pull within the media, and she will make sure the word gets out as to what you did. You shot the Director of HAMMER in cold blood. You didn't shoot to kill, but you still shot. You think your mutiny in Times Square was bad? They're going to crucify you for this."

"Probably," I say as I pack up my gear and get back on my motorcycle. "Just means I'll have to work even harder to prove myself. Tell my side of it to the world, show them why I did it, build my case against HAMMER and Carter in particular."

"That's if she lets you," Fury says with a cynical laugh. "For someone who's sworn to protect America, she's not one for upholding the Constitution or the Bill of Rights. Still, you put your message together, and I'll give you the platform for it."

We exchange salutes, and I fire up the bike while Fury walks off into the woods, presumably to find some other hidden transportation he's got buried back there.




A day's ride later, and I'm in upstate New York, pulling up a long and winding driveway to a darkened mansion, its hedges overgrown, the furniture inside covered with sheets to prevent them from gathering dust. This was the home of the great Howard Stark, one of the greatest minds and industrialists in American history....

....and if Wingfoot was telling the truth, one of the most prominent early members of SHIELD.

I walk around the perimeter of the Stark Mansion, making sure there aren't any unwanted surprises, then kick open the back door and step inside. I really wish there was a more discreet way of getting in, but I guess this will do unless I can get one of Howard Stark's surviving family to give me a key.

The place is dark and the air is close; it's obviously been a couple of years since someone's been inside. It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, and when it does I make my way through the hallways, checking every door for stairs or some kind of indication as to where this supposed bunker might be.

I eventually find the stairs to the basement, and head down to find a cluttered mess of dusty tools, scattered notes, and half-finished machines. This must have been Stark's workshop. This may have been where he created the Iron Men that changed the face of the Cold War...and maybe where the new one was conceived as well.

Stumbling around in the dark, I eventually find a large metal door. No handle, no keyhole, no number pad, no visible way of opening the door, just the door itself.

I place my hand on the door, and feel a slight tingle, like a small jolt of electricity running through it.

BIOMETRIC SCAN COMMENCING, a low electronic voice says from practically nowhere. MATCH FOUND: JAMES STEVEN ROGERS, AKA JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES. BIOMETRICS ACCEPTED. WELCOME.

With that, the door slowly slides open, and I cautiously step inside...

 

[J'adore]

HUNTRESS
​

Clint sat in the plane as it soared through the sky, and he pulled his mask down over his face. Body armour, check. Bow and assorted arrows, Check. A hell of a lot of guns, check. The patience of a saint, no.

"We there yet?" Clint shouted to the cockpit over the roar of the engine.

"2 minutes. Get in position," the pilot yelled back bluntly.

With a sigh, Clint pulled himself up and went over to the sliding door of the plane, ready to open it up. He grabbed the parachute from the side and slipped it onto his shoulders, and made sure nothing was loose. Here goes nothing. The green light lit up the entire section of the plane, and he yanked open the door, a gust of air knocking him back a few steps. Upon regaining his balance, he threw himself out of the door, and out into the open air.

The wind smashed against his mask, and it broke through any gap it could find onto his face, stinging it like mad. The island was fairly large, and intimidating, but Clint just had to focus on the land for now. He came before Huntress, in his opinion. He continued to fall and fall, until he heard a beeping from his wrist watch, and immediately pulled at the string of the parachute, and let it burst out. It immediately slowed his fall, and he regained any composure he might of lost as he gently floated down. A moment or two later, and he was already rolling onto the ground, and throwing off the parachute.

He pulled out a pistol instinctively, and looked around uncomfortably. A few bodies. One woman, a couple of wolves. Weird. This was either Morse, or somebody he really didn't want to bump into. He span 360 degrees, to make sure his back was clear, before even making a move. He already hated this place. Slipping the pistol away, and pulling out his bow, Clint began his trek, and walked off slowly into the jungle.
​

​

I pant, wiping the sweat away from my forehead quickly. I've just taken down a rather large Cheetah with a spiked bamboo stick. Trust me, not a good idea. Don't try at home, kids.

This island is f****d up. I mean, seriously. I've seen mutants, exotic lands, and then, get this-- A pterodactyl. A frickin' pterodactyl. I think some creepy s*** went down here, and I'm not going to stay around long enough to find out.

I rest behind a large tree for a moment, long vines draping down that hide my appearence. A gentle waterfall trickles quietly, whilst in the far distance, I can see people, moving about. Probably some more Mutants. Honestly, I can't be bothered to go fight them right now. I need to rest, recover from my injuries. I need to--

CRAK

A twig? A branch? It's a noise, I know that. I quickly sprint to the far end of the vines, peeking out between the thick ropes of nature, my eyes scanning the vast jungle. Please don't tell me it's another She-Wolf girl. I've had enough of those for one day. All I gotta do is stay dead quiet and keep close to my bamboo stick, then I'll be fine.

As I prepare to retreat to a safer hiding place, my eyes catch sight of a man. He's dressed in purple and seems to be clutching a bow and arrow of some sort. Hah, he's actually kinda cute. If he wasn't a mutie, I'd so totally do him.

He seems to powerless. Either that, or prefers to use weapons. Either way he seems weak, so I'll take this guy down. Quick and fast...

"Looking for me, buddy!?" I pounce out from my hiding place, swinging the bamboo stick around my fingers. I give the man no chance to reply, jolting in to the air and striking him around the head with the bamboo stick.

I swiftly move the bamboo stick up in to his stomach, then back around his jaw. I watch as he seems caught off guard. It's only as he falls to the ground, I notice something. Something that regrets I ever beat the crap outta this cutie. A H.A.M.M.E.R badge.

"HAMMER!?" I growl, jumping on to the man's lap and placing my bamboo stick down on his neck. My hair dangles down in front of my face and eyes sharpen.

 

[Byrd Man]

Bobby nods and takes off into the camp, leaving just Juggernaut and I.

"So it's just me and you? Might not be a fair fight."

I grit my teeth and charge towards the massive man with my metallic fist raised high. "Just shut up and fight."

Juggernaut slams into me and sends me flying back into the woods. I crash through a tree and roll to a stop on the forest floor.

"That was fun, wasn't it?"

I struggle to get up. Juggernaut jumps on the opportunity and picks me up by the neck. He tosses me through the air and I knock down a few more trees. I finally manage to get up before Juggernaut grabs me. The big man starts charging me again. He's almost unstoppable when he gets running, but I'm quicker where it counts. I roll out of the way and let him barrel through a few trees before I give chase. Juggernaut slows down and I jump on his back, laying into the back of his helmet with my fists.

"Get off me, ***hole!"

He shakes and tries to buck me. I hold tight and keep striking his back with blows from my knee. Juggernaut manages to shake to me and I fly off his back and land on the ground with a large thump. I get up quickly and turn to a tree next to me, looks like it's a good sized fir about 150 feet tall. I wrap my arms around the trunk and grit my teeth as I yank it out by the roots. I can hear Juggernaut's massive footfalls getting closer.

"Think you can stop me?! I'm the Juggernaut, b****!"

The tree groans and finally comes out. I swing it quickly and throw it towards Juggernaut.

WHAM!

The fir lands on him and shakes the ground around us. I keep my guard up as I walk over and push the tree off the Brotherhood member. He's alive, but unconscious. I look him up and down and shake my head.

"Take that, b****."

I turn around and head back towards the camp. I still have a mission to finish.

 

[Eddie Brock]

"What do you mean 'empty?'" I shout unhappily into the phone.

"This place is cleaned out, Tony," Rhodey reports. He's calling from the South Dakota residence where I believe Obadiah was operating. After a little convincing, Rhodey took the coordinates to his superiors and organized a small team to investigate the place. "I don't know if he knew you were coming, or if he was just planning on moving on anyway, but there's nothing here."

"Nothing?"

"Just some computers, but the serial numbers are filed off, and our boys say the hard drives are fried. They say they'll be lucky to recover anything from them."

I resist the urge to pound my desk angrily. We had a lead. It wasn't easy, but we actually had a lead. And we missed him. Now, Obadiah could be anywhere. I was banking everything on catching him right then and there, putting an end to this madness. It seems Obadiah wants this chess match to continue a little longer.

"Sir, I've detected a break-in at the Mansion," Jarvis reports suddenly.

The Mansion? No one's been to the Mansion since my father's funeral was held there. I honestly don't know what to do with the place. Stark Enterprises, everything I'm working on, is here on the West Coast. I have no need for an upstate New York estate. I've considered selling it, or maybe donating it to a boarding school or something. So who's breaking in?

"Tony?"

Remembering that Rhodey is on the phone, I say, "Tell your men not to touch anything. Leave everything exactly as it is. I'm coming up in the morning to take a look around for myself." Maybe I'll be able to find a clue that Rhodey's team might overlook. Obadiah's good, but he's not perfect. I'll find him. "I have to go. Something's come up." Unceremoniously hanging up the phone, I march out of the office past a bewildered Happy. "Boot up the Mark II. I've got to make a cross-country flight."

***

As I make my approach to the Mansion, I think about how long it's been since I got in the suit. I figured until I found Obadiah - or whoever he's got wearing the Whiplash armor - I'd have no need for it. In fact, I was hoping Pepper could get the Mark IV ready in time for my next deployment. Then again, I wasn't counting on someone breaking into my father's home. I guess I'm just lucky that Jarvis' systems in the Mansion are still operational. God knows what this thief could walk away with, otherwise.

"The intruder's point-of-entry was the back door," Jarvis reports, pulling up a blueprint of the Mansion on my HUD and highlighting the door in question. "He kicked right through the deadbolt."

"You'll forgive me if I'm unimpressed," I say flatly. I minimize the Mansion blueprint as the house itself comes into view on the horizon. It's just as I remember it - from the old days of wandering the cavernous halls alone, to the more recent memories of my father's casket occupying the grand piano's former place in the living room. It looks so lifeless without lights or power, though.

I land on the back lawn as silently as possible. No intruder is going to be able to outrun me, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try to utilize the element of surprise. "Jarvis, chest light. Twenty-three percent power." As I give the command, the powercore in my chest emits a soft beam of light to illuminate the way for me.

"Sir." Jarvis brings my attention to the footprints in the dust on the floor.

"Good eye, Jarvis. Highlight the tracks." My HUD locates and highlights the footprints. I watch them curl around the corner. As I look around, nothing particularly seems to be out of place. That tells me this intruder wasn't looking to ransack the place. No, he was looking for something specific. But what?

"The basement, sir," Jarvis says, redirecting my chest light to the ajar door which leads downstairs. That was my father's workshop. Countless unfinished designs, notes, and blueprints are still down there. I never found the time or heart to go through them after my father died. Smart money is on the would-be thief looking for something of value down there. After all, my father's designs are worth a lot more than the artwork on the walls, that's for sure.

I try to descend the stairs as quietly as possible, but that's easier said than done when you're dressed head-to-toe in heavy metal armor. I'm frankly surprised the wooden stairs don't give way under the weight of my suit. That's when I see it. A dark passageway at the far end of the workshop, an open door that I never remember seeing before.

"Chest light, sixty-five percent power."

The soft, flashlight-esque glow from my chest intensifies in a floodlight.

"ATTENTION: YOU ARE TRESPASSING ON PRIVATE PROPERTY. STEP FORWARD, OR I WILL BE FORCED TO OPEN HOSTILITIES."
​

 

[Andy C.]

Stepping into the darkened bunker, I pull out a small flashlight, navigating through the first few corridors. Howard Stark must have had defensive strategy in mind when he laid out this part of the hideout: long narrow hallways with elevated positions above, very easy to create choke points with lots of clear lines of fire for the defenders. Anyone who broke in here when this place was still operational would have had one hell of a time fighting his way through.

I jump a bit when I get to a larger open foyer and see two Iron Men units staring right at me on either side of a large SHIELD logo. They don't move, though I can't tell if that's because they're deactivated or because they don't acknowledge me as a threat. The door did open when it recognized me as Captain America's son; maybe I'm registered by the entire facility as a friendly.

Before I can get any further in, I hear a loud electronic voice calling out from back in the Mansion's basement.

"ATTENTION: YOU ARE TRESPASSING ON PRIVATE PROPERTY. STEP FORWARD, OR I WILL BE FORCED TO OPEN HOSTILITIES."

I turn and call back.

"Iron Man? Is that you?"

I head back through the corridors and towards the main door, walking slowly towards him with my hands up.

"Makes sense, the man who named himself after Howard Stark's most famous invention is also the man who protects his home. Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude......well, actually, I guess I did."

 

[Eddie Brock]

Stepping into the darkened bunker, I pull out a small flashlight, navigating through the first few corridors. Howard Stark must have had defensive strategy in mind when he laid out this part of the hideout: long narrow hallways with elevated positions above, very easy to create choke points with lots of clear lines of fire for the defenders. Anyone who broke in here when this place was still operational would have had one hell of a time fighting his way through.

I jump a bit when I get to a larger open foyer and see two Iron Men units staring right at me on either side of a large SHIELD logo. They don't move, though I can't tell if that's because they're deactivated or because they don't acknowledge me as a threat. The door did open when it recognized me as Captain America's son; maybe I'm registered by the entire facility as a friendly.

Before I can get any further in, I hear a loud electronic voice calling out from back in the Mansion's basement.

"ATTENTION: YOU ARE TRESPASSING ON PRIVATE PROPERTY. STEP FORWARD, OR I WILL BE FORCED TO OPEN HOSTILITIES."

I turn and call back.

"Iron Man? Is that you?"

I head back through the corridors and towards the main door, walking slowly towards him with my hands up.

"Makes sense, the man who named himself after Howard Stark's most famous invention is also the man who protects his home. Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude......well, actually, I guess I did."

"Captain America?"

Of all the potential intruders, the man before me would probably come last on the list of my suspects. Hell, I was almost holding out hope that this would be my confrontation with Obadiah. But Captain America? I think I had a Captain America action figure when I was a kid. Granted, it wasn't the same man behind the shield, but regardless; I didn't know breaking-and-entering was on his long list of skills.

Popping up the faceplate on my helmet so we can talk face-to-face, I say, "Well, you can imagine my surprise right about now." I glance over his shoulder, noticing the second piece to this very strange puzzle: the hidden doorway and the hallways it concealed. "Well, I fold. Lived in this house for most of my childhood, thought I knew every nook and cranny, but I guess Dad had his secrets."

 

[Andy C.]

"Captain America?"

Of all the potential intruders, the man before me would probably come last on the list of my suspects. Hell, I was almost holding out hope that this would be my confrontation with Obadiah. But Captain America? I think I had a Captain America action figure when I was a kid. Granted, it wasn't the same man behind the shield, but regardless; I didn't know breaking-and-entering was on his long list of skills.

Popping up the faceplate on my helmet so we can talk face-to-face, I say, "Well, you can imagine my surprise right about now." I glance over his shoulder, noticing the second piece to this very strange puzzle: the hidden doorway and the hallways it concealed. "Well, I fold. Lived in this house for most of my childhood, thought I knew every nook and cranny, but I guess Dad had his secrets."

The first time I met Iron Man, I initially thought he was a robot, probably another generation of Howard Stark's invention of the same name. As we joined forces to take down that Hulk monster, though, I got the distinct impression that there was an actual person in there. I just didn't know who it was.

Seeing who's behind the faceplate, though, I'm kind of amazed I didn't figure it out earlier.

"Tony Stark," I say. I never paid much attention to him, since most of what he was known for was appearing in trashy tabloids. Just another in a long line of spoiled brat socialites, living off of their parents' fortunes and tarnishing their names. I guess there's more to him than meets the eye.

"Well, since I know your name, I guess it's only fair you know mine," I say, pulling off my own mask. "Captain James Buchanan Barnes, birth name James Steven Rogers. My father was the first Captain America back in the war. My, um, my friends call me Bucky....well, my former friends anyway. I don't seem to have too many of them lately."

Looking back to the open door behind me, I gesture to it.

"This installation here belonged to the organization SHIELD back during the Cold War. Or at least, it belonged to a faction within it. Before the organization went underground, I understand there were some very strong disagreements over what SHIELD should become. On one half of it was Nick Fury and his war dogs. On the other half were more conscientious men, like my father......and like yours."

I turn and look back into the corridor of the old facility.

"This was meant to be a safe-house, a hidden command structure for in case the worst happened. With as many things that are going on these days, I think it might be a good idea for some of us to look into places like this and find ways to organize. A safe haven from groups like HAMMER, and even the current incarnation of SHIELD--which, if you haven't encountered them yet, keep on your toes. A place where those of us who aren't government agents or contract mercenaries--those of us who are 'super heroes' if you'll excuse the corny expression-- can meet and communicate and band together."

I think of the name that Nick Fury gave me when I was tasked with gathering other people like myself. The name I called out when we fought the monster in Times Square together.

"A place where we can assemble....Avengers."

 

[Hound55]

Walking back to my car I hear a semi-familiar click. I hate that sound. It’s the sound of incompetence on my own part. The sound of a handgun being cocked. Obviously this man had someone else waiting where I couldn’t see them. Perhaps someone who is familiar enough with me or my type to know that making their presence known before arming themselves is not a wise move.

“Turn around, suckah!”

A woman’s voice?

“Trust me, I don’t miss, ‘specially from this range! Now tell me why you, some ol’ dirty bastard, is gettin’ ‘round in Danny’s gear before I give you some mo’ holes to speak out o’!”

"Put the gun down." I say to the woman with a calm I can sense is making her more uncomfortable and nervous than anything else. No hypnofist, can't afford the risk, takes to long to re-adjust the chi if I need to take evasive action. Just a calm request.

"Not 'til you answer my question, old man!"

She's still hollering at me in a screeching voice which rends at my nerves like a... oh god, I can't even think of a good analogy it's so irritating. My old grade school teachers nails on a blackboard is as good as any I suppose.

"The gun goes down." I repeat, still with my back to the armed woman but pointing out behind myself to emphasise my point.

"No! Why you wearin' Danny's gear!"

That's it, this has gone far enough. Any more of this gunplay and sumeone's liable to be hurt... I'm damned if it's going to be me.

"I'm not wearing Danny's gear..."

With an expert realignment of the mystical chi of Shou-Lao the undying, now mine to control, I find the energy with myself to move faster than she could even hope to react. I turn and knock the gun clear of her hand, where it slid across the alley.

"He wore mine..."

"How'd you do that, y' ol'..."

The woman stops her sentence herself, my eardrums thank her, the expression on her face appears to be piecing together a puzzle in her mind. She doesn't know HOW I did it, but she seems to have figured out enough that it's because of the same reason that Danny used to be able to.

"Who are you and how did you know Danny, miss?"

Looking at her closer now for the first time I can see that she has some kind of metal prosthesis on her right arm. She covers it up mostly, seems a little self conscious of it, but I managed to catch just a glimmer of a metallic flash under her sleeve.

"I'm a private detective, part-owner of KnightWing Restorations. Danny works pro bono with us time-to-time on some... Wait? Why you sayin' 'did'?"

Ah hell... She doesn't know... Also, 'pro bono'?? I guess it's good to know he's selective as to who the hell he steals from...

"Danny's dead, miss... My best bet would be that it happened sometime earlier this week."

"No. No..."

Hmm she's reacting pretty strongly to it, like she had some kind of further relationship whith Danny that she's not mentioned previously.

"...no. It ain't possible. I saw him just the other day. His situation hadn't changed but he wasn't dead. Surely I'd have heard..."

"His situation..?"

The woman picked up some kind of radio transmitter device and began speaking into it.

"Colleen, baby-doll, I need you to go check on Danny. Some ol' fool here says he's dead. We'll meet you... no, wait... I'm not going to lead this guy there it might be a trap. Check on Danny and meet us back at the office."

The woman with the big black afro directs her attention to me once more.

"You're gonna come with me... If you're lying you're gonna have some questions t'answer. And if it turns out you're telling the truth... then you're gonna have some questions t'answer..."

I'm tired, worn out from today's activities. Between finding out that the kid stole all of the money I had in my US account (which was damn near all of it), dealings with airport security and people in this alley and still having nowhere to call home in this city there's only one answer I can give.

"If you've got pillows and a blanket then I'm there..."

 

[Andy C.]

"Here's to you, babe,"says Eddie, raising his drink up in a toast. "Seventeen. Happy early birthday."

The rest of us raise our glasses in salute around the crowded table at Romita's Pizza. We're all here as an early birthday celebration for Gwen, whose actual birthday isn't for two more days. We celebrate early, for, well...reasons.

"Thanks, guys," Gwen says with a warm smile that I notice fades a bit when Eddie kisses her on the cheek. "I really appreciate everyone coming out for this. I know things are a little....weird, but....I mean, we're all friends here, right? And that's what matters."

Everyone smiles and takes another drink of soda to toast her comment, then a funny thing happens: we all start switching between giving Gwen big friendly smiles, and subtly giving each other icy death-stares.

It's kind of an awkward triple date situation, and the group dynamic certainly isn't working. Gwen brought Eddie, naturally, but even though we hate his guts, she insisted that Harry and I come out too. Harry brought Liz, and I had to bring Mary Jane, just so I didn't feel too pathetic by being the only one without a date.

So the running order of who is glaring at whom and why goes something like this:

Liz gives MJ an evil-eye because she's still convinced Harry wants to be with her after he saved her from Electro.

Harry gives a cold stare toward Eddie for punching him a couple of weeks ago.

I'm also staring daggers at Eddie because he's a perverted, manipulative, controlling jerk who is ruining my best friend's chances at happiness because he knows that he doesn't actually deserve to be with her, and he returns the evil-eye back at me for precisely the same reasons.

Even Gwen herself, the one person who's keeping a fistfight from breaking out, can't resist the urge to give a quick but devastating Stacy Stink Eye towards myself and Mary Jane. I know she doesn't like the idea of the two of us going out, but I still don't see why it bothers her that much.

"So, um, Gwen," MJ starts, trying to break the tension in the room, "Pete told me that you guys always celebrate your birthday early instead of on the actual day, right? Any reason why?"

"Well, it's.....there's kind of a long story behind it...." Gwen says, practically squirming to get away from the question.

"Yeah, it's a sensitive issue," Eddie practically speaks over her. "We don't really want to bring it up."

"Wait, who's this 'we,' exactly?" I ask in irritation before I can shut myself up.

"Look, it's some really heavy personal stuff," Harry says to MJ, ignoring what I just said and cutting Eddie off before he could respond. "It's Gwen's business, so if she wants to talk about it, then we will. And if she doesn't, we won't, okay?"

"Okay, sorry, I didn't know," Mary Jane says defensively. "Just, y'know, trying to make some conversation. Break the ice a little."

"It's okay," Gwen says, practically apologizing for herself. "If you really want to know, I'll tell you later. I just....I don't want to be a downer at my own birthday party."

There's a pause so big that Godzilla would have ample room to break-dance in it before Liz finally speaks up.

"Soooo......you and Petey, huh?" she says to MJ. I cringe when I see the look on Gwen's face. As if things weren't uncomfortable enough.

"Yeah, who would've thought, right?" MJ says, looking over to me with a wink. "We just hung out a few times, and had a lot of fun, and then the other night after we were saved by that spider-girl I thought to myself 'y'know, Pete's a great guy, he's fun to talk to, and he's pretty cute, so why not?' We kissed, and well, I guess we're official now."

"Honestly, I'm still kind of in shock over it myself," I admit. "I can't really believe it."

"....yeah, I can't believe it either," Gwen says, rolling her eyes.

"Well, I think you two make for a really cute couple," Liz says, either actually oblivious to the discomfort in the group or intentionally ignoring it for the sake of keeping things polite.

"Yeah, I mean, honestly? If Liz allowed me to be jealous, I would be--*oof!*" Harry says before Liz elbows him in the ribs. "But seriously, Pete, I'm happy for you. Not many people can say that the Queen of Midtown High was their first kiss, right?"

".....second."

"Hm?"

"Yeah, Mary Jane, she's....she's my second kiss, not my first. My actual first was a couple years ago, remember?"

Harry and Liz look at me blankly like I'm making it up.

"It was the summer between eighth and ninth grade, not long after Harry moved away for England. We all got invited to a birthday party at Felicia Hardy's house. Well, Eddie got invited, and he brought Gwen and I along, anyway."

"Oh yeah, I remember that party," MJ says with a nostalgic grin. "That was our big 'farewell' party for Felicia before she transferred to a private school."

"Yeah, well, while Eddie got pulled away to toss the football around the backyard with Flash and Kong and the rest of his new friends, Gwen and I didn't have anyone else to talk to, and somehow we ended up getting roped into a game of spin-the-bottle in the basement."

Harry raises an eyebrow. Liz giggles as her eyes light up; she was there that day.

"So yeah, it's Sally Avril's turn, and she spins, and it stops on me. And she just freaks out, because she was hoping it would be Liz's brother Mark, right? She goes on and on about how it's not fair that she should have to kiss a dork like me, yadda yadda. Honestly, I think half the reason she still picks on me so much is because she knows that she still owes me a kiss."

Now it's MJ who starts giggling. It's no secret that MJ and Sally have been rivals for years over control of the pretty-people cliques in Midtown, so finding out that her current boyfriend is the reason that her arch-foe is so uptight must have tickled her funny-bone.

"Anyway, Sally flat-out refuses to kiss me. And since she won't do it, none of the other girls will do it either....."

"....so I volunteered."

I look over at Gwen, who's blushing bright red as she looks at me, smiling. And I can't not smile right back.

"Yeah....so we both moved into the center of the circle. And we got in close.....and then Mary Jane here dared us both to French kiss and I nearly choked to death on Gwen's retainer."

Everyone laughs....well, except for Gwen, who just kind of shrinks and blushes, embarrassed. And Eddie, who sneers.

"So yeah, that was my first kiss. So good it almost killed me, right?" I say, trying to cheer Gwen up but immediately regretting it when I see it's just embarrassed her more.

"Well you know what, Parker?" Eddie says, putting his arm around her. "I know she doesn't wear a retainer now."

The laughter and smiles all kind of die down with that remark, everyone almost simultaneously creeped out by it.

"Wow, that's....really classy, Eddie," I say with a sting in my voice.

"You mean like talking about kissing my girlfriend while I'm sitting right here?" Eddie fires right back.

"Guys, come on, the pizza's getting cold. Let's just--"

"No, really, Parker," Eddie just ignores Harry completely, "I already told you once that I don't like you talking to Gwen like that. Now you're doing it right in front of me, and right in front of your own girlfriend too?"

Mary Jane gives Eddie a deadly stare.

"Gwen, in all honesty," she asks, not taking her eyes off of Brock, "why are you doing this to yourself?"

"Please, can we not--"

"Doing what to herself, huh? Come on, let's hear it."

"Putting up with you," MJ practically spits at him. "Seriously, Gwen, everyone here can see it, but no one wants to admit it. He's making you miserable, treating you like you're his property. And have you seen how mean he is to Pete and Harry, your best friends?"

"Look, Eddie's--"

"Oh, you're one to talk," Eddie says to Mary Jane, cutting Gwen off. "Like you've never ragged on Parker or the other kids too. And now you're trying to judge me? What's the difference between me being with Gwen and you being with Parker?"

"Easy," Mary Jane says. "I actually like Pete, and Pete actually likes me. You're just using her to prove something, and she's just using you to fill in for someone she actually wants to be with."

Eddie bites down on his lip, trying to come up with a real crusher of a comeback, but unable to think of one. If MJ weren't a girl, I'm positive Eddie would punch her right now.

I just stare holes through my pizza, trying to keep low to not get dragged into this. I look up for a second, and see Gwen doing the same thing. She looks up at me for half a second too, and we both reflexively look away.

There's a good ten seconds of deadly silence after MJ let the big cat out of the bag, before I finally say something.

"........I, um.......I think we should go," I squeak out, pulling out my wallet and leaving money for my share of the pizza on the table (along with a decent tip for the waitress).

"Yeah, that's probably for the best," Mary Jane says, softening her tone when she realizes how much drama she's let loose. "I'm sorry for making a scene, guys. Anyway, happy birthday, Gwen."

"......thanks," she says, not even looking up from her pizza as MJ and I get up and head for the door.

"Well, that was painful," I say as we step out onto the sidewalk. "I mean, it's not your fault, you didn't say anything that wasn't true...."

"Yeah, but I shouldn't have been meddling like that," she says regretfully. "I ruined her party because I couldn't keep my mouth shut when I saw something I didn't like."

"To be fair, I think it needed saying. And nobody else has been able to really say it so far. Harry won't because he's just not the type to get into other people's personal baggage. And I haven't been able to say it, because, well...."

I trail off for a few seconds, not really sure of how I was going to end that sentence.

"I get the feeling there are a lot of things you haven't been able to say," she says, looking away.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing, just....." MJ sighs. "That poor girl could really use a break. Anyway, what are you up to for the rest of the night?"

"I don't really know yet," I say, "but I'm probably just gonna have some 'me-time.' I really need to catch up on some extra-curricular stuff that I've been slacking off on, and maybe blow some steam about the whole Eddie thing."

I really do need to catch up on my extra-curriculars, specifically the Spidey-related ones. Violence between the Big Man and Silvermane's gangs has ramped up, with a few other gangs getting caught up in it. There was another really nasty murder-scene last night: a smuggling operation from Tombstone's organization got hit, and the victims were literally torn limb from limb, pulled apart by something with ridiculous strength, and hacked up by some kind of claw-like blade.

Maybe finding who did that and beating the tar out of him will get my head straight.

 

[Andy C.]

TWO HOURS LATER......


"I'LL SQUASH YOU, SPIDER!" the gigantic brute screams as he swats at me, the half-dozen Maggia gunmen decked out in heavy body armor popping off shots with their assault rifles while I dodge and weave between everyone in the loading docks of the harbor.

"Again with the squashing," I say, rolling out of the way as the big guy leaps, actually cracking the pavement a little when his fist hits the concrete. Sure, he's no Rhino, but that's still impressive. "Seriously, every bad guy I've fought always wants to 'squash the Spider.' Can't any of you come up with a more creative euphemism for killing me?"

According to the info I got from Captain Stacy, the guy's name is "Man Mountain" Marko, one of Silvermane's more feared muscle, hopped up on some strength-increasing mutagens that the Maggia has been buying from an unknown source. Oddly enough, he's the older cousin of Flint Marko, now the Sandman. I guess turning yourself into a homicidal monster runs in the family.

"RAAAARGH!!!" Man Mountain shouts, again hitting nothing but air as I tumble right past his fists.

"Oh come on, man, at least try to banter back," I say, firing a glob of impact webbing into his face. "I mean, your cousin Flint couldn't hang with me in a fight, but he'd at the very least give me a little lip when I trounced him and his pal O'Hirn. Y'know, back when they were still working for the Big Man, and before he turned one of them into a screaming cybernetic monster with a big horn on his head and the other into a shape-shifting mound of living sand. You know how it is."

I keep close to the less sandy Marko, so the Maggia gunmen can't get a clean shot at me without risking hitting him. One of them does fire off a shot, though, triggering my Spider-Sense to warn me of the oncoming bullet. I turn my body in mid-leap to corkscrew around the bullet....and end up spinning myself right into Man Mountain's grasp, as he grabs me by the leg and flings me away.

I easily recover, sticking to a large shipping container, but by having this much distance between myself and the big guy, the other gunmen are able to get a better shot at me. I've got to move fast, or--

BUDDA-BUDDA-BUDDA-BUDDA!

Two of the Maggia gunners drop dead as bullets rip through them. Out from one of the nearby warehouses steps a man who looks like if Al Capone had a baby with Frankenstein.

"Clear out, you buncha mooks!" he says, brandishing his Tommy guns. "This is the Big Man's turf, and the Spider is the Big Man's kill!"

"That right, Hammerhead?" Man Mountain Marko says, looming over the nasty-looking gangster. "Well you're gonna need more firepower than that to deal with me and the Spider!"

"Heh, funny you should say that, Hoss," says an irritatingly familiar voice from behind Hammerhead. Out step three men in some kind of power suits, that look like souped-up versions of the kind the Shocker had his boys wear.

"Maybe you an' the rest of your Maggia boys wanna skeedaddle while the Enforcers take care of the bug problem," Montana says. Oh God, these idiots are back?

"This is Silvermane's city, you punks," Marko says, flexing his ridiculously overblown muscles to intimidate Hammerhead and the Enforcers. "This turf is ours, and so is Spider-Man's hide!"

"Ummm, hello, guys?" I call out. "I'm right here, y'know. I mean, I know you're all mobster scum and all, but that's just rude."

I leap down from my perch, webbing up the surviving Maggia gunners and making a beeline for Marko, when I'm actually cut off by one of the Enforcers--I'm assuming Fancy Dan-- who whizzes towards me at super-human speed and actually manages to send me tumbling.

As I get up, I have to scramble to get through the shower of lead that Hammerhead pours out from his oversized Tommy guns. With my Spider-Senses dodging bullets usually isn't a big deal, but these are really big bullets, and there are a whole lot of them.

I fire a web-line to the top of a nearby crane to get to the high ground, but as I swing up, the line is cut by some kind of energy whip emanating from Montana's power suit. As I hit the ground, Ox charges at me, and I just barely manage to avoid being part of the tangled wreckage as he plows straight through one of the metal shipping containers.

Man Mountain Marko charges towards me as well, until something green leaps onto his back.

"RAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHH!!!!" it snarls, moving at incredibly fast speed as it begins slicing into the big guy with some kind of blade.

As Marko crashes into the ground, the crazed attacker looks up at me, and I see who it is....

"Scorpion?!"

Last time I saw Scorpion, he was still a law-abiding super-cop, the toast of the town. Something's changed in him, though. There's a crazy look in his eyes, a frenzy, like a rabid animal.

"Scum, all of them!" he hisses, brandishing the long bladed stinger on the end of his tail. "Wipe them all out!"

...oh man. The murders last night. The gangsters that were butchered by someone with super-human strength and a claw-like blade. It was him.

New York's official city-sponsored superhero is a psycho-killer.

"We got another wall-crawler, boys!" Hammerhead calls to the Enforcers. "Let's take 'em both down!"

As he takes aim with his machine guns, there's suddenly a loud K-BLAM!!! and the Tommy gun in his left hand shatters into pieces. I look up to the source of the sound, and see a man with a rather intimidating sniper rifle.

"None of you will rob me of my trophy," the man calls out in a thick Russian accent. "The Spider-Man is my prey now, and I will have my quarry to myself."

Okay, so assess the situation....Silvermane's got an enormous mutated strong-man who's still wanting to break my bones....

.....the Big Man has sent a machine-gun-toting hitman to take me out, and equipped his toadies with high-tech super-weapons to help him do it....

....the one bona fide beloved superhero who I thought would come to the rescue has gone nutty and is now out for blood.....

....and now there's this Russian loony with sporting a lion pelt and an elephant gun, who wants to have me stuffed and mounted on his wall.

"You know what?" I say to the whole cluster-hump in front of me. "Freaking bring it on!"

The whole place comes alive with evil snarls and gunfire as I dive right into the thick of things.

This is really going to hurt. But I've already been through one excruciating situation to day, so I should be used to it now.

 

[Eddie Brock]

The first time I met Iron Man, I initially thought he was a robot, probably another generation of Howard Stark's invention of the same name. As we joined forces to take down that Hulk monster, though, I got the distinct impression that there was an actual person in there. I just didn't know who it was.

Seeing who's behind the faceplate, though, I'm kind of amazed I didn't figure it out earlier.

"Tony Stark," I say. I never paid much attention to him, since most of what he was known for was appearing in trashy tabloids. Just another in a long line of spoiled brat socialites, living off of their parents' fortunes and tarnishing their names. I guess there's more to him than meets the eye.

"Well, since I know your name, I guess it's only fair you know mine," I say, pulling off my own mask. "Captain James Buchanan Barnes, birth name James Steven Rogers. My father was the first Captain America back in the war. My, um, my friends call me Bucky....well, my former friends anyway. I don't seem to have too many of them lately."

Looking back to the open door behind me, I gesture to it.

"This installation here belonged to the organization SHIELD back during the Cold War. Or at least, it belonged to a faction within it. Before the organization went underground, I understand there were some very strong disagreements over what SHIELD should become. On one half of it was Nick Fury and his war dogs. On the other half were more conscientious men, like my father......and like yours."

I turn and look back into the corridor of the old facility.

"This was meant to be a safe-house, a hidden command structure for in case the worst happened. With as many things that are going on these days, I think it might be a good idea for some of us to look into places like this and find ways to organize. A safe haven from groups like HAMMER, and even the current incarnation of SHIELD--which, if you haven't encountered them yet, keep on your toes. A place where those of us who aren't government agents or contract mercenaries--those of us who are 'super heroes' if you'll excuse the corny expression-- can meet and communicate and band together."

I think of the name that Nick Fury gave me when I was tasked with gathering other people like myself. The name I called out when we fought the monster in Times Square together.

"A place where we can assemble....Avengers."

"Avengers, huh?" I say with a little laugh. "I like it. It's memorable, marketable. I'll have my copyright lawyers look into it." So Captain America wants to use an abandoned SHIELD facility hidden underneath my father's house as a "meeting grounds," of sorts, for this unofficial assembly of "superheroes" - myself, the Captain, even that Thor fellow. I can't say I'm particularly opposed to that idea, especially given that I was just going to sell this house or let it collect dust.

"So, my Dad was in SHIELD," I remark, more to myself than the Captain. Ever since learning of this clandestine organization during the Times Square incident, I've done everything in my power to learn about them - as much as possible, anyway. From what I've gathered, there were something of a precursor to HAMMER, minus the bull**** politics. However, somewhere along the road, they became increasingly militant. Their founder, Nick Fury, is a man more of myth than history.

All that being said, SHIELD was founded with the intention of doing good in the world, so I can't say I'm particularly surprised with my father's involvement. And, from what the Captain has said, it sounds like Dad fell on the "liberal" side of SHIELD when the schism started to form. Still, it amazes me how much I can learn about the man long after his death.

"I tell you what, I'll see if Jarvis can patch into the auxiliary power for this little bunker and turn on the lights for us. Then, we can talk," I offer. "In fact, I think there might still be some stock in the wine cellar. My father had a real taste for brandy." I start off to find the wine cellar before stopping. I laugh and ask, "Does Captain America drink?"

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Previously

Spoiler

I push through the crowds of people up towards the top of the hill where Doctor Simmons is held captive. Sue is....somewhere around here, I guess.

Reed. Those men are back. They're following us again.

"Alright, here's the plan," I mumble under my breath. "I'll run off to distract them while you sneak into the stockade and find Simmons."

Alright. Just be careful.

"Same to you."

I cut to the right suddenly and take off down a side street. The three men from before are right behind me. Cutting into an alley to the left, I stop suddenly as I almost smack into a wall at the end of the small street. A dead end. "Doctor Richards," a voice calls from behind. The three men stand at the opening of the alley. "If you come with us now, there will be no problems."

"Who are you people?"

"We speak for Kang," one of them answers.

"The Minister of Time," another one continues. "Your continued existence is polluting the time stream."

"Listen, fellas. I'm sorry about what I did, but I just came back here to rescue another doctor. Maybe the three of you can help us rescue him and get us back to our own timeline."

"Negative."

"The 21st century is not enlightened enough to handle the burden of time travel. As such, all travelers must be exterminated before time can be further diluted."

"You are to come with us to the 31st century to stand trial for your crimes."

"What are my crimes, exactly?"

"Your pollution of the late 17th century here, as well as the dilution in the early 21st century."

"Enough. Come with us and stand trial."

The three men start to approach me. No weapons so far. I honestly expected some kind of laser beam or weapon. "Well....if you guys can see the future....you must have seen this coming!"

I swing and elongate my arm, stretching out a few extra feet and cold-cocking the three men with one swift punch. I retract my arm and grab my fist. "Ouch...."

A trumpet goes off somewhere and I'm suddenly reminded of the task at hand. I step over the semi-conscious men and run down the alleys towards the middle of town, where Doctor Simmons is on a stage and being strung up to a wooden pole with kindling and logs at his feet.

We're too late. Sue must not have gotten there in time. I have to do something. A hand brushes against my shoulder and I feel someone's breath around my ear. Reed, what do we do?

The gears in my head start spinning and working into overtime. Suddenly, a drastic plan pops in my head.

"Alright, Sue....just follow my lead."

I run through the crowd and jump up on to the stage. "Spare him, kind people! I beg of you, spare this poor man's life! He is not a witch...I'm the witch!"

The crowd lets out a collective gasp and I look around, almost uncertain of where to go from here. Something passes by me and up towards Simmons. Sue's taking my lead.

"Yes, I am a witch. Watch!"

Holding my arms out, I begin to stretch them out towards the crowd. A cry of horror goes out and the crowd turns from shocked and outraged, to angry. "Burn him! Burn him!"

I scowl and stretch my legs along with my arms, growing taller and larger. "You dare doubt my power! I will show you the true power of the witch!"

I turn back to see the ropes falling off of Doctor Simmons. He looks confused as something pulls him away from the stage. I take Sue's cue and shrink back down to my regular height. "And now, for my next impression, Jesse Owens!"

I turn and run, leaping off the stage and catching up with Sue and Simmons. I reach into my pocket and pulling out the beacon, hitting the signal. "Doctor Simmons? Lovely to meet you. Reed Richards. How long until Ziegler takes us back?"

"Uhh...five minutes, I suppose."

I turn around and see a mob coming down the street. "Alright, well, hopefully the beacon works while we're on the run."

The three of us take off down the road with the mob giving chase.

I grab hold of Sue's invisible hand as we run through the streets of Cambridge with Doctor Simmons, the head of DARPA's time travel project. The year is 1665 and the good people of Cambridge are all hot and bothered by the appearance of three mysterious people they believe are witches. Those three people would be us, which explains why the villagers have their torches and pitchforks firmly in hand as they run after us.

"Let's go!"

We take a left on the street and come to a stop. The street leads right to the side of a house. Dead end. The mob begins to round the corner as the time beacon beeps rapidly. We all disappear in a white light and I almost puke from the feeling of vertigo that I get right before we slam back to the ground. Back inside SIDRAT, back in the present. "Sue, are you here?"

I'm here, Reed.

I let out a sigh of relief. The door to SIDRAT swings open and a concerned Doctor Ziegler looks in. "Oh, God. Where's Doctor Storm?!"

I'm here, Doctor. Just invisible. I'd go back to being seen....but I can't without you seeing some things.

"Right...well, the three of you come out. Welcome back to the 21st century, Doctor Simmons."

I change out of the era clothing while Sue puts on her clothes and comes back to being seen by the naked eye. We go back to the control room and brief Ziegler on what took place in 1665. I conveniently leave out the part about inventing Calculus while I do mention the three mysterious men who appeared to be henchmen for someone known as Kang, Minister of Time. This Kang appears to have it out for me and me alone.

"They mentioned something about my pollution of the timestream here in the early 21st century."

"That could have something to do with the turbulence you helped Ziegler solve," Simmons states. "That particular date and time a few months ago. It seems to have effected the time-space continuum."

Sue and I trade looks. The look in her eyes confirms that she feels like I feel. "We-I mean, I may have had something to do with that. That point in time? That was when Sue and I attempted to leap across the solar system with two of our friends. The ensuing accident caused us to get our powers in some weird way. We're not sure how, but our spaceship disappeared from the solar system for ninety minutes. That's the exact amount of time that the space-time continuum was affected."

The two doctors look at each other before looking back at me. "The four of you have no memory of where you went?" Ziegler asks.

"No memory and all our recording devices shorted out when we made the leap."

"And you have no idea what took place in those ninety minutes and why this Kang thinks it deviated from the timestream?" Simmons asks.

"No idea. Something we've done has angered a time lord from the future."

I want to say it, but Sue beats me to it. "That's......heavy."

 

[Eddie Brock]

Araña

miss_corazon: history hw is sooo boring
NightElfMage42: oh, come on. it's not that bad
miss_corazon: dont test me, mankowski
NightElfMage42: lol
NightElfMage42: arent the gauchos, like, your people?
miss_corazon: ...
miss_corazon: u kno, not all spanish ppl come from the same place
miss_corazon: bsides, my dad is mexican n my mom was puerto rican
miss_corazon: wat does that have 2 do w/ south american cowboys?
NightElfMage42: just trying to be helpful lol
miss_corazon: yeah, well, if u want 2 b helpful, take this quiz 4 me
miss_corazon: lol
NightElfMage42: name your price
miss_corazon: :-P
miss_corazon: gtg
miss_corazon has signed off.

As I close the computer, I turn my attention - what's left of it, anyway - to the open history book on my desk. Stupid Ms. Wegmann and her insistence on giving quizzes every other week. I skim through the page, but I realize halfway through that none of the words are processing. With a sigh, I turn my attention to the little drawing at the corner of the page.

It's a guacho - a South American cowboy, I know that much - chasing down stray cattle on horseback. He's swinging something over his head. My eyes drift to the caption.

The bola: a traditional guacho weapon consisting of one or more weights tied to the ends of interconnected cords. The bola would be thrown at the legs of an animal, entangling the limbs and subduing it in a nonlethal manner.

After reading this, I arch an eyebrow. "Subduing" a target in a "nonlethal manner?" That's just the thing I need. I'm tired of always having to chase down a fleeing criminal. If I had bolas, I could tangle up their legs and trip them - without inflicting much harm. And, in fact, I think I know a little shop near El Barrio that might sell traditional equipment and artifacts.

***

It's Saturday night, and I've been itching for a chance to test out the bolas I bought. I keep them tucked away in my wrist pouches - easily accessible for when I need them. I've decided to go with the common double-weighted variation. Pretty simple, really. I just hold the bola where the two cords meet, give it a good spin, and let it rip. I've found time to practice, just so that I'll be ready when my first opportunity presents itself.

BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAM!

...and presenting Test Subject A.

I run along the rooftops, searching for the source of the gunshots. From the sounds of it, it's a semi-automatic weapon. Luckily for me, the gunman rattles off several rounds every few seconds - like some kind of homing beacon for me to track. Finally, I see the black El Camino sliding recklessly through an intersection. The gunman leans out the window, firing his next handful of shots. That's when I recognize him.

Eduardo Lobo, with his brother Carlos behind the wheel.

"You've gotta be kidding me."
​

 

[Watchman]

The soldiers dragged the Skull at the pick up point but there was nothing there. The Skull fell to the ground. He couldn't keep himself together for much longer. He had lost too much blood.

"God damn it! Where the hell is our ride?" The area around them shimmered. Something appeared into their sight. It was not a chopper but definitely some sort of ship. The doors opened and men in odd yellow jump suits appeared. Over their heads they wore yellow bucket helmets. They waved the troops in. As soon as the Skull entered the ship the men in yellow grabbed him.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" One of them took off their helmets. It was a woman with green hair and lipstick. Her eyes looked like they were filled with static.

"Greetings I am Scientist Supreme, tech oracle of the M.O.D.O.K higher intelligence." Her voice was gentle and nearly emotionless. "Do not be alarm we are here to help. The mind is here to heal. A gas is being pump to help you to relax. A.I.M prospers." Skull's men collapse. She walks over to one of the Skull's men, the one who pulled him through the city and into the ship.

"One of the units has retrieved this. I have deduce that the Skull would want you to have it." Before the soldier lost consciousness he held the leather mask into the light. It was the mask of Crossbones.

"W-what's happening..." The Skull was barely able to get out.

"Rebirth. Welcome to A.I.M. Do not stir and let the gas take effect. Remain calm all will be well."

With that everything went black.