The "Dawn Of Marvels" RPG: Year One

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JOHNNY BLAZE: GHOST RIDER
Year I - Part 20


Barton Blaze looks up at his son in horror.

"Johnny, no! What the hell did you do that for?"

Before Johnny can answer, a loud bang is heard. Smoke fills the room. It clears to reveal a devilish figure.

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"Young Johnny Blaze... your resourcefulness astounds me."

"Mephisto!" The Ghost Rider growls.

"Quite an impressive form. All the better to serve me with."

The Ghost Rider lunges at Mephisto, who dodges the tackle.

"Settle down, Johnny. Quit being so... hot-headed."

Mephisto chuckles as the Ghost Rider lunges again. Mephisto does not move aside this time. He instead grabs the Ghost Rider by the throat.

"Boy! This behaviour is unbecoming of you!"

Suddenly, Mephisto is struck from behind by Barton Blaze. He throws the Ghost Rider, who crashes through the wall, then turns on his attacker.

"Barton Blaze! Long have I waited for the chance to cut you down!"

"Leave my son alone you bastard!"

"Your son? The son you delievered to me out of your own cowardice?"

"If you touch him, I'll--"

Mephisto reaches out and grabs Barton Blaze by the throat. He pulls him close and speaks through clenched teeth.

"Give my regards to your wife."

Mephisto breaks Barton's neck and casts his body aside, just as the Ghost Rider climbs back into the room.

"NOOO!"

The Ghost Rider ploughs into Mephisto and knocks him to the ground, he begins pumelling him with his fists. Mephisto wriggles out and kicks the Ghost Rider in the jaw, sending him sprawling onto his back.

The two opponents get to their feet and slam into eachother once more, Mephisto smiling devilishly.

"The longer you struggle, Johnny... the worse I'm gonna hurt her. You understand? Once I'm through with you, I'm gonna kill that little girlfriend of yours!"

The Ghost Rider's eyes begin to glow as Johnny fills with hate for his adversary. All the memories of the pain Mephisto's caused builds up inside of him until his body can no longer contain it. Twin braids of flame shoot out of his eyes into Mephisto's.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Feel the pain, wicked one!"

In a matter of seconds, Mephisto's body explodes in a cloud of black ash. The Ghost Rider transforms into Johnny Blaze once more and the boy crawls over to his father's body. He holds the corpse in his arms and weeps.
 
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JOHNNY BLAZE: THE GHOST RIDER
Year I - Epilogue


Johnny Blaze sits on his motorcycle, staring at the horizon that cuts the sky in half, straight as a razor blade.

"So it was all real..."

"Yeah..."

Roxanne places her hand on Johnny's shoulder.

"Don't go, Johnny. Whatever happens... we can face this together."

Johnny shakes his head.

"No. I can't let you do that, Roxy. This is my curse. It's my name on that damn contract... The only way you'll be safe is if you stay away from me."

Roxy begins to weep. Johnny grabs her by the shoulders and kisses her.

"I will always love you, girl."

Johnny's head bursts into flame, his skin melting away, as he screeches off down the darkened highway.

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"Peter? Pete, wake up!"

I pop up in my bed. I hardly even remember coming in last night. I guess I was so wiped by my fight with Big Wheel that I just sort of lumbered home.

When Harry sees that I'm awake, he remarks, "About time."

I rub my eyes and yawn obnoxiously. "What time is it?"

"Almost 2 o'clock," Harry states.

I leap out of bed faster than you could imagine. "2 o'clock? Oh no..." I start gathering my clothes rapidly.

Harry stares at me. "What's going on? Do you have class or something?"

"No, I was supposed to meet Gwen a half-hour ago!" I explain as I throw a sweater over my head.

Harry just smiles and sits back. "Gwen, huh? Are you two...?"

"No, but not being on time isn't helping my chances!"
I respond before he can finish his statement. I brush my teeth faster than I ever have in my life. I try to comb my hair, but it won't yield. I don't have time for this.

Before Harry can ask his next question, I go flying down the hallway. I almost run into a fellow student. No time to apologize. When I enter the stairwell, I see that it's empty. Let's save some time. I leap straight down the center, slowing myself to a stop with a web at the last minute.

I come flying out the dorms like a madman. Nobody realizes, but I'm actually using my agility. I slide across the roof of a taxi - much to the displeasure of the driver. I seem to remember several profanities. That's New York for you!

Finally, I can see the coffee house. I make a break for it like there's no tomorrow. Once I reach the door, I slow myself to a halt. I quickly straighten out my clothes, flatten down my hair, and open the door.

Gwen's not in here.

"Excuse me," I say to the nearest waitress, "Did you see a girl in here? She had blond hair...unbelievably attractive?"

The waitress looks at me before responding, "She left 15 minutes ago."

I slump down into an empty chair. I start lightly banging my head on the table. I know I'm making a scene, but I don't care. I just blew my first chance with Gwen Stacy.

"Can I get you anything, dear?" the waitress asks politely, trying not to feel uncomfortable around me.

I shake my head.

She nods understandingly. She starts to walk away when she's stopped in her tracks.

"Hey...where's your other shoe?"

I look down and see that my left foot is, indeed, shoeless.

Wonderful.
 
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After my gigantic failure in the Gwen department, I decide to devote the rest of my day to finding a use for my Spider-Man pictures. That prick down at the Bugle might not have given me a shot, but the Bugle isn't the only newspaper in town!

That's why I found myself at the Daily Globe building. The Globe is easily the second-highest selling newspaper in New York - behind the Bugle - and it's much more easy-going. As soon as I walk in, I can tell that this is not the Bugle. It's hectic, sure - all newspaper offices are, I would presume - but it's still a very relaxed atmosphere.

"Lost?" a voice calls out.

I turn to see a blonde-haired guy, a little older than me.

"What? Oh, no. I'm here to see the editor," I explain.

I watch as this guy eyes me up. "You don't look like a reporter..."

"I'm not. I'm a photographer," I remark as I hold out my portfolio.

"No way! Me too!" he announces energetically. "Eddie Brock...mind if I see your work?"

I hand Eddie my portfolio. His eyes glimmer as he looks at the photos.

"How in the world did you get these? I've been trying to get a clear shot of Spider-Man for a week! These aren't...fake...are they?"

"No! They're all real!"

Eddie smiles. "Easy, partner. I wasn't accusing you or anything. I just can't believe you got these!" He hands me my portfolio back. "Here you go...um..."

"Peter Parker,"
I introduce myself as we shake hands. "Hope you're ready for a little friendly competition."

"Oh, I'm game," he assures me. "Catch you around, Parker."

Yeah, these people are definitely nicer than the Bugle. I could see myself working here. I continue to make my way until I reach the editor's office. His secretary is even less organized than Robbie down at the Bugle.

"Hi, Miss, I was wondering if I could see Mister Ditko?"

The secretary looks up at me. I don't know why, but in that moment, I couldn't help but think that she looked a lot like a parrot. Her glasses were tilted, her hair was a mess, and she stared at me blankly.

"Miss?" I repeat to break the silence.

Then, it was like someone threw cold water on her face. "Oh...sure! Go right in!"

As soon as I did, I saw her go back to work out of the corner of my eye. She began shuffling papers about like there's no tomorrow. I almost laughed, but I thought it would look bad.

Mr. Ditko was talking to another man at his desk. Mid-sentence, he saw me walk in. He motioned for me to come over as he continued his conversation. I reluctantly took a seat.

When Mr. Ditko and his associate had stopped talking, he turned to me. "How can I help you?"

I appreciated being talked to like a human being...not like how Jameson treated me. "I'm Peter Parker, and I have some photos of Spider-Man that I thought you would like to look at."

As he took my portfolio, he stated, "Peter, this is Frederick Foswell."

As soon as he mentioned the name, I realized that I recognized Mr. Foswell. "Frederick Foswell...the reporter?"

"No, Frederick Foswell the brain surgeon."

There was a brief moment of silence which was broken up by fits of laughter by Mr. Ditko and Mr. Foswell.

"You can go, Freddie, but remember what we talked about."

Mr. Foswell nods and leaves the room. Once we're alone, I feel suddenly uncomfortable like I'm on trial or something.

"These are good pictures, Mr. Parker," Mr. Ditko announces.

"Thanks, and it's just Peter," I state politely. I'll settle for "good." It's better than "fake."

Mr. Ditko put the portfolio down and folded his arms. "I'm going to be straight with you, Peter. I don't have any openings for a photographer." My heart sank. "But I would love to have you work freelance."

I look up.

"Beg your pardon?"

"Just keep bringing me photographs, and I'll keep paying you for them," he explains. "It's nothing permanent, but maybe when something opens up...I'll look to you first."

I smile broadly. It's a start.
 
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JAMES HOWLETT: WOLVERINE
Year I - Epilogue


"All thing considered, I must say that I am pleased with the way things turned out."

Wolverine chuckled at Xavier's words.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, Logan. None of my students were seriously harmed and both of Magneto's children are now in custody. I hope this incident has shown you that you belong here."

Wolverine gets up and puts a cigar between his lips.

"Sorry, Chuck. I've seen yer kids in actions. They'll be fine without me."

"Where then will you go, Wolverine?"

Wolverine lights the cigar.

"That little blue elf's got some places he wants to show me. Says I've been to 'em before. I'm a man with no past, Chuck. I gotta start somewhere."

The professor shakes his head.

"I wish you would reconsider. My students could really benefit from your influence."

Wolverine laughs.

"No one's ever said that to me before."

Wolverine opens the door and stands just outside the room.

"Ya never know, Chuck. Ya might not've seen the last of me."

So, the man with no past disappears... hoping he might find a future.


Deadpool, worlds greatest assassin, came bounding down the stairs with a suitcase. He gave a quick wave to Xavier as he passed.

"Hey Charlie. I'm all set... wheres James?" He turned round to look at the Professor. Xavier sighed and looked at Wade with a consoling expression.

"He left without me didn't he?" Deadpool said sadly, sitting down on his luggage.

"I'm sorry Wade. Sometimes a man has to figure things out on his own. Sometimes we can only be there for someone in spirit, in our thoughts."

Wade looked down at the ground. "Yeah, I know. Ya wanna know something funny?"

Xavier gave Wade a curious expression.

"There isn't even any luggage in here. Everything I own is on my back. Don't even know who's case this is."


The Professor laughed. "You are a strange one Wade Wilson. What are your plans now?"

Deadpool scratched his head. "Ya know I'm not sure, I've never planned anything in my life, just took everyday as it came."

"Sometimes thats the best way. But what about now? We'd love to have you here at the school Wade, we could use a hand with the... housework." Xavier said whilst looking around at the disheveled remains of his once glorious mansion.

"I got some things I gotta tie up first, I forgot to feed my goldfish before I came out. Ohhh, its probably dead... (Yeah like anyone REALLY dies in Marvel) I'll be back once I've sorted things out. I could be a while. Say bye to the chick with the purple hair for me."

"That I will Wade, have a safe journey and thank you for everything you've done."

With that Wade Wilson walked out the door and, for the time being, out of the life of the X-Men.

"Now... where did I leave my car."
 
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Dr. Curt Connors sat infront of the computer staring at the machine. This wasn't right. How could the University do this to him? He wouldn't let him stop his research. Not when he was this close.

Dr. Connors had been working for Empire State University in the Biochemistry Department for over 10 years. His works with lizards and cellular regeneration had at one point been one of the crowning jewels of the University, but lately had lost the spotlight and his department was being down-sized. In short, Dr. Connors' research was in danger.

He stared down at his right side, where his arm used to be. If his theories were correct, he could regrow his arm. He could be able to hold his newborn child in his arms. That was something that not even the University would take away from him.

Dr. Connors activated the large machine that loomed in front of him. It powered up slowly, making a loud whirring sound.

Suddenly, his cellphone rang. "S***." He turned off the machine and answered his cellphone. "Hello?"

"Hi, honey."

"Oh, hi Martha."


"Where are you?"

Dr. Connors stumbled over his words. "I'm just in the lab right now. We're about to run the test."

His wife went quiet for a moment. "Curt, they already got rid of your assistants. What do you mean 'we'?"

Dr. Connors sighed. "I meant 'I' am about to run the test."

"Curt, you know I don't want you to run those tests by yourself. Its dangerous."

"Don't worry, dear. I developed this machine and the technology behind it. I can figure it out."


His wife sighed over the phone. "I still don't like it. I have a bad feeling about this."

"I'll be careful. I love you and I'll be home in time for dinner."

"Okay, I love you." With that Dr. Connors hung up the phone and turned back to his machine. Tonight he would walk home a whole man once again.
 
A man in a black suit walked down a white corridor. He walked with a cane, and a small limp, yet he looked quite young. He had a pale face, highlighted by smooth, short black hair. If you had been watching him for a very long time, you would notice that he had been walking down the corridor for longer than you had been watching him.
He walked along quickly for a man with a limp, leaning on the cane for support. Eventually he seemed to come to a place hed been aiming for for a very long time. He looked mildly pleased with himself. Then a man in a white suit, with long golden hair appeared in front of him.

"Oh Gabriel, it irritates me so when you do that. It puts my efforts to waste," the man in black said, a smile flickering across his lips. The man in white said nothing, staring at the man in black coldly.

"Zacharius, do not make idle talk with me. Explain your actions,"

"Oh you never were any fun. I did what i had to do to study the mortals,"

"You killed people Zacharius. Horribely," the man in white said, keeping cool. Up until that point the man in black had been calm and in control. Then a true glimse of what this creature had become was seen. His mouth roared open, and spittle landed on the white mans face, eyes wide. In fact his whole body seemed to bristle with uncontrolled anger.

"They deserved it!"

"Nobody deserves what you did. I have consulted with the Archangels. We have agreed. You are to be cast out,"

"No! I appeal to the Heavenly Father!"

"I have discussed it with the Lord personally. I have his full backing,"

"Oh you always were daddys favourite!" the man in black said. He raised his cane, and it turned into a flaming sword. He brought it down at the man in white, who stepped smartly aside and parried it with a sword that had appeared from nowhere. The flaming swords clashed in the white corridor, until something came. It was a presence, but they could not see it.

Enough. Zacharius I Cast Thee Out!

And then the man in blacks world changed. The white corridor dissapeared, leaving only a dark and cold alley. His smart suit changed, turning into the clothes of a tramp. His cane shattered, and his smile broke.

Zacharius You Are Un-Made
"And i shall have my revenge father..."
 
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I place a hand on the Professor's shoulder. "Just us again, eh, Professor?"

"Quite so, Scott," he responds. We both watch as the one called Deadpool walks down the driveway.

In the back of my mind, I have a nagging feeling. I know that the Professor probably already knows about it - since he's a telepath - but I must ask anyway.

"Professor?" I begin sheepishly.

"Yes, Scott?" he responds. He's not giving any indication that he knows what's coming, but he knows. I can tell.

"If you wanted to, could you have made them stay?"

"Yes, but it would not be right to step upon their free will," he states calmly. He turns his wheelchair around to face me. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," I reply without making eye contact. Deep down, I know the reason. And I pray that the Professor doesn't know about it.

I can't help but wonder if the Professor is using his abilities on us without our knowledge. I know he says that he'd never do that, but how would we know? Maybe he's subconsciously forcing me to stay. I know it sounds paranoid, but can you blame me? I'm attending a school run by the world's most powerful telepath.

"So what now?"

The Professor smiles and begins to roll down the shattered hallways. "We will find more people like us. Invite them to come to the school if they wish."

"Where do we start?"

"I heard something about a boy in Russia on the news," he responds. "Might as well start there. But we'll worry about that next week or so. In the meantime, our school is in need of repairs."

I look at the damage. It's definitely our top priority.

"Take a rest, Scott. You've earned it."

I nod and begin to walk the other way.

"And Scott?"

I stop and turn towards the Professor.

<Trust me.>
 
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"Get offa me!"

Aaah, music to my ears. In a flash, I've removed my clothes. Where Peter Parker once stood, there is now only Spider-Man. After creating a quick web-sack for my civilian clothes, I set off to find the source of the outburst.

"How original," I state sarcastically. There is a man in a ski mask holding up another man in a dark alley. Would it kill to be a little more subtle about these confrontations?

"Spider-Man!"
"Spider-Man!"

Before either of them can make a move, I leap down and grab the taller man. I twist his arm behind his back.

"Thanks, Spider-Man!" the other man responds.

"Just go!"

He nods rapidly before taking off down the alley. I'm sure he looks ridiculous running through the streets like that.

"What do you want? Information on the Kingpin?" the first man asks. I don't loosen my grip on his arm.

"What the Hell's a 'Kingpin?' Sounds like a cheesy bowling alley owner!"

This guy laughs at me. He actually laughs at me. "You don't know the Kingpin? That's hilarious. The Kingpin owns this town!"

I tighten my grip. "I don't see his name on it," I reply menacingly.

"Want my advice? Back off. If you mess with me, or anyone else in league with the Kingpin, you'll be dead within a month," he threatens. "I promise you that."

"Look, I could care less about this Kingpin of yours," I admit. It's not entirely true. Now that he's said something, he's peaked my interest. "I'm here because you were assaulting some guy."

"He asked for it! When the Kingpin wants a favor, you do it with a f***ing smile on your face!"

Already, I don't like this Kingpin character. It sounds like, to me, he's a cheap Godfather rip-off. Nonetheless, I resolve to do some research when I get the time. If this guy is somehow involved with organized crime, then I need to take him down.

"Anyway, here's how this is going to go down. I'm going to web you to this wall here. The police are going to come. You're going to jail."

This guy scoffs. I don't know what's so laughable.

"Not quite."

He stomps on my toe. I bite my lip to keep from making a noise, but my grip is loosened enough for him to wiggle free. He hits me in the face with an elbow, and I stumble backwards.

"I can't go to jail. I've got a reputation to uphold."

He pulls out a revolver. I hold up my hand - like that's going to stop him or something.

"S*** happens, kid."

BANG!

I look and see that I took a bullet to the collarbone. As I begin to freak out, the guy runs away. I can't believe he shot me. I can't believe I fought a giant ferris wheel, but it's one guy with a gun that got the upper hand.

I need to get out of here and attend to this wound. I'm going to lose a lot of blood otherwise. I scramble to my feet and fire a webline weakly.

Just have to make it back to my dorm in one piece...
 
IC: Venom

Eddie Brock sat in his apartment alone. Nobody was there to talk to him. Nobody was there to keep him company. Yet, he was still very, very annoyed.

"Look, man. All I'm saying is that it wasn't that bad. We're not 'the next Spider-Man,' alright? We're way cooler than that!"

Eddie grabbed his head and screamed. "SHUT UP! You almost got us killed!"

The voice in his head laughed. "Oh, it wasn't even bad! Do you forget that we are super strong? I can heal you! Not to mention that we kicked those guys butts!"

Eddie picked up the remote for his Wii. Maybe some video games would clear his mind. "I'm going crazy. This can't be happening to me."

"Don't ignore me, Eddie! I was created to help people, and your stubbornness will not prevent me from doing that!"

Eddie stopped for a moment. "This kind of s*** doesn't actually happen! I'm in control here!"

Venom chuckled. "Are you? I have things I need to be doing, Eddie. I want to be your friend, but I don't have to be. That isn't my number one priority."

"Then...what is your number one priority?"


Eddie felt his mouth rise up into a grin. "I'm going to be the greatest hero that every lived."
 
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Once Harry had left to be with MJ for a while, I got onto my laptop to learn about this Kingpin character. My shoulder still hurt, but I was still alive, so there's something to celebrate. Although I'm still worried that Gwen is going to kill me when I see her in class again. But I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

Oh my God! How did I not know about this guy? He is New York crime! This Kingpin has infiltrated every layer of New York's political and economical world, and no one even knows who he is! During my search, I came across the name Ben Urich several times.

Looks like this Urich guy was a reporter who was dedicated to outing this Kingpin. About 10 years ago, Ben Urich was one of the most prominent journalists in New York. He was the hotshot reporter for the Daily Bugle. Then, interestingly enough, it all came to end. One day, Urich was bumped down to writing about urban legends and the like. His journalist credibility went down the tubes.

When did this happen? It happened when J. Jonah Jameson became Editor-In-Chief of the Bugle. Yet another reason for me to dislike that guy.

So if I want answers on the Kingpin, I need to talk to Ben Urich. So naturally, being as headstrong as I am, I email this guy. That's right. I email some guy that I don't know for information about an alleged crime boss.

You've done some extensive work on the Kingpin. Did you ever find anything concrete?

That's what I said to some guy that I don't even know. As I waited for a response, I went back to searching for information. I'd make a damn good reporter if I had the motivation.

You've got mail.

I open the email. It's from Urich.

Let it go, kid. The Kingpin's a myth. One man can't control all the crime in a city. My advice? Find a new hobby.

Well, that's not encouraging. Most reasonable people would stop there. I run around in red tights. I'm not a reasonable person.

You wouldn't have said that 10 years ago. Is that you talking, or is it J. Jonah Jameson?

Call me brazen. Oh well. I need answers about this Kingpin, and I need them fast.

What does Jameson have to do with anything? Look, it's not worth it, kid. You're only going to get yourself hurt...or worse. So if you care about your life - or the lives of those around you - you'll let it go.

Ok, it's a start. At least he's starting to show that he does believe in this Kingpin. I decide to leave it for now. If I keep bugging Urich, he'll ignore me altogether. Instead, I decide that I'll contact him every so often - extracting tiny bits and pieces until I get the whole picture.

At the exact same time that I close my laptop, Harry walks in.

"Hey, Pete. Whatcha doing?" he asks as he removes his coat and tosses it onto his bed.

I look at my laptop. "Me? Oh...uh...nothing. Just internet games."

"Did you see this?" he asks as he holds up a copy of the Bugle. "Turns out Spider-Man isn't the saint he wants us to believe!"

I take the newspaper. What is he talking about? I scan the headline, and it makes my blood boil.

SPIDER-MAN: PUBLIC MENACE!

That's it. I officially hate Jameson.

I grab my jacket without another word to Harry.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to have a little talk with someone."
 
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With the mansion's repairs all but finished, I can finally have some peace and quiet around here.

SNIKT!

Or not.

I turn to face Wolverine. "Don't you realize that you're not wanted here, Wolverine?"

"I'm here for some unfinished business between us," he explains while pointing his claws at me.

"I'm only going to ask you once, Wolverine," I threaten. "Get off school property."

Wolverine snickers at me. "You think you scare me, bub? You're nothin' but a boy scout."

"You know what I like about you, Wolverine? You can heal," I explain while I place a finger to my visor. "That means that I don't have to hold back."

In the blink of an eye, I unleash a blast more powerful than anything I've ever done before. It rips through Wolverine's torso, leaving a giant hole. He stumbles backwards in total shock.

"You...haven't won yet...bub..."

And like that, Wolverine collapses. I smile at my victory.

"Great job, Scott!"

I turn to see Jean walking towards me. Once she gets close enough, she wraps her arms around me and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

"My hero!"

And in the next moment, it all dissipates. First Wolverine and Jean disappear. Then the mansion around me changes back to an empty steel room.

"What do you think of the Danger Room, Scott?" Professor asks over the intercom.

I stand in the center of the empty room, my hand still placed where the holographic Jean kissed me.

"Convincing."
 
"Jimmy, im sorry. I cant look after you like Ch- Proffesor Xavier can," Moira McTaggert said, tears forming in her eyes. Her surrogate son looked at her, something close to hate in his eyes.

"Whatever Doc,"

"Please call me Mum,"

"Whatever. The taxis here now. Itl take me to the airport,"

"Wont you let me drive you?"

"No. Seeyah round Doc," Jimmy said, taking his bag in his hands, and running out to the taxi. As he sat down, he banged his head on the window.

"I'm sorry mum," he whispered, tears falling from his face to the window.

"You're not gonna make it better by crying about it are you?" he said to himself. Jimmy turned round and punched the duplicate in the jaw. It dissapeared.

"Shut the hell up," he said, sitting back down in the cab, and riding out to the airport.

A short trip across the Atlantic later

Jimmy stepped off the plane, and wandered with the crowd to the customs lounge. He got checked through, and wandered into the exit. A man in a suit was standing there with a card, which seemed to be proclaiming to the world that "Mr. Madrox" was requiring a lift from him. Jimmy walked up to him.

"You from the Xavier guy?" he said, coolly, with his heavy Scottish accent. The man nodded.
"Erm...shall we go then?" he asked, slightly freaked by the lack of response.

A shorter car journey later

Jimmy stepped out of the car, which was so long, and so cool, it had to be some kind of limo. He grabbed his kit bag and slung it over his shoulder. He put one hand in his dad's old trench coat, and walked towards the door. He rang what appeared to be the bell, not sure what reception awaited him.
 
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"Warbird, this is Command. Do you copy?"
the voice in my earpiece asks. That voice is none other than my partner, Brian Michael Bagley. He's my eye-in-the-sky, as it were.

I speak softly into the tiny microphone on my collar, "This is Warbird. I read you, Command. What have you got?"

"A new assignment," he explains. "How's that sound?"

I smirk. "Lay it on me."

"Ok, we're looking for one Jack Hammer - goes by the hacker alias Weasel. Turns out our friend here hacked into the SIU database," Brian states. "A couple weeks ago, Agents Jonathan and Susan Storm tried to apprehend Weasel for questioning, but they lost him."

"And now we've found him again?"

"Bingo."

"Why don't the Storm's clean up their own mess?" I ask, slightly aggravated. I'm sick of being the SIU clean-up crew.

"The Storm's - along with Agents Richards and Grimm - are in España," Brian explains, attempting his best Spanish accent. "They won't be back for a week or so."

I sigh. I can see that there's no getting out of this. "Fine, give me an address."

"I knew you'd see it my way."

***

Fifteen minutes and one cab ride later, I'm at Weasel's apartment building. After ascending several flights of stairs, I reach his floor. His apartment is the last door on the far left.

Once I'm there, I place one hand on my gun and knock.

From inside the door, I hear Weasel shouting, "WHAT DO YOU--"

The door flies open, and I'm face-to-face with a short, dorky-looking guy. His tone softens when he sees me. "--want?"

I watch as he tries to discreetly check his breath. I roll my eyes.

"How can I help you, Ms....?"

I pull out my gun and point it at him. With my free hand, I display my badge. "Agent Carol Danvers with the Special Intelligence for the Unexplainable Agency. We need to talk. Mind if I come in?"

Weasel gulps audibly, then steps aside to let me in. His apartment is just as nerdy as I expected. He has Star Trek and comic book posters on the walls. His computer, however, is very impressive. It's clearly been custom modified.

"What does this Agency want with me?" Weasel asks nervously, clearly trying to play dumb.

I grab Weasel by the shoulder, and force him into his chair roughly. "A couple months ago, you hacked into our databases. Sound familiar?"

His eyes are fixated on my gun. Well, it's better than my chest, I guess. I watch as beads of sweat begin to appear at his hairline. Busted.

"I didn't take anything! I swear!"

I kneel down so that I'm eye-level with him. He still doesn't take his eyes off the gun in my hand. Noticing this, I holster my gun.

"Let's rewind for a second. Why did you hack our databases in the first place?"

With the gun out of the picture, he feels much more comfortable to talk freely. "This guy broke into my apartment..."

"Does this guy have a name?"

"I never got a name, I swear! But I know he was a mutant!"

A mutant, eh? This is starting to sound far-fetched, but I'll let him finish.

"He wanted me to find information on some Weapon X program."

"Weapon X?"

"That's what the file said..."

I grab his shirt collar. "What file?"

"When I came in, he handed me a file! It said Weapon X on it! He wanted me to find more information!"

"So you hacked into the SIU database?" I ask as I release his collar.

"Yes! I didn't want to, but this guy was a mutant and he broke into my apartment! I was afraid of what he would do if I said no!"

I nod. Sounds reasonable enough. I then ask a question that I've been asking myself.

"And did you find anything on Weapon X in our databases?"

"No! Like I said, I didn't take anything!"

"What did this mutant say when you told him that you couldn't find anything?"

"Nothing. He just grabbed his file and left."

"Did he say where he was going?"

"No."

I stand back up. By this point, Weasel is drenched in sweat. Something tells me that he hasn't been caught before. I check my watch.

"Are you going to kill me now?" Weasel asks sheepishly.

"No, it doesn't work like that," I explain. "Since this is your first offense, and since you didn't take anything, we're going to let you off with a severe warning."

Weasel relaxes for a moment in his chair.

"But be warned: if you cross us again, I'll be putting a bullet through your head."

Weasel tenses up and nods nervously.

"Ok."

And before he can react, I pull out my gun and pistol-whip him. I hit him right in the temple, and he passes out right in his seat.

While he's unconscious, I copy his hard drive to a separate CD for the SIU to keep and examine. I then plant a bug on his computer so that we'll be able to track him. Then, just in case he ever ditches his computer for a new one, I implant him with a revolutionary biochemical tracer that will allow us to find him anywhere in the world.

Mission accomplished.
 
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"Now, Scott, as much fun as you had blowing a hole into our amnesiac friend--" I smirk as the Professor says this. "--perhaps we might run a more realistic scenario to prepare you for the field?"

"Fine," I respond blandly. This is a room where anything can happen, and the Professor won't even let me have my fun. "What've you got?"

Jimmy stepped out of the car, which was so long, and so cool, it had to be some kind of limo. He grabbed his kit bag and slung it over his shoulder. He put one hand in his dad's old trench coat, and walked towards the door. He rang what appeared to be the bell, not sure what reception awaited him.
We both turn to at the sound of the doorbell.

"Ah, that must be our new student, Mr. Madrox," the Professor announces. "Come, Scott, let's greet the fine lad."

I nod and exit the Danger Room. A few seconds later, the Professor comes rolling out. I walk alongside him as he tells me about this Madrox.

"He's really quite fascinating. He has the mutant ability to duplicate himself a nearly infinite number of times," he explains.

Wow...I bet that could come in handy.

"It most certainly would, Scott."

I don't think I'll ever get used to being around people who can read my thoughts. Nevertheless, the Professor continues.

"It is my understanding that when Mr. Madrox merges back with his duplicates, he gains any knowledge that they might have picked up. Can you imagine? You duplicate yourself, and then your duplicate learns how to speak French. When you come back together, you too can speak French!"

"Wow, that does sound cool," I admit. I look up and see that we're already at the door. I open it and step back.

The new guy is standing there with all of his things.

"Hello, Mr. Madrox. I am Professor Charles Xavier, and this is my student, Scott Summers. Welcome to my School for Gifted Youngsters."
 
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"Now, Scott, as much fun as you had blowing a hole into our amnesiac friend--" I smirk as the Professor says this. "--perhaps we might run a more realistic scenario to prepare you for the field?"



"Fine," I respond blandly. This is a room where anything can happen, and the Professor won't even let me have my fun. "What've you got?"





We both turn to at the sound of the doorbell.

"Ah, that must be our new student, Mr. Madrox," the Professor announces. "Come, Scott, let's greet the fine lad."

I nod and exit the Danger Room. A few seconds later, the Professor comes rolling out. I walk alongside him as he tells me about this Madrox.

"He's really quite fascinating. He has the mutant ability to duplicate himself a nearly infinite number of times," he explains.

Wow...I bet that could come in handy.

"It most certainly would, Scott."

I don't think I'll ever get used to being around people who can read my thoughts. Nevertheless, the Professor continues.

"It is my understanding that when Mr. Madrox merges back with his duplicates, he gains any knowledge that they might have picked up. Can you imagine? You duplicate yourself, and then your duplicate learns how to speak French. When you come back together, you too can speak French!"

"Wow, that does sound cool," I admit. I look up and see that we're already at the door. I open it and step back.

The new guy is standing there with all of his things.

"Hello, Mr. Madrox. I am Professor Charles Xavier, and this is my student, Scott Summers. Welcome to my School for Gifted Youngsters."

"Youngsters? When is this the 60's?" Jimmy said, looking at the bald man in the wheelchair. What the hell had McTaggert got him into. He looked up at the tall man with a visor over his eyes.
"And whats with the visor? You got a monobrow you cant hide or sumthin'?" he looked into the mansion interior. It was ripped apart.
Jesus Christ Doc, this place is a dump. How can this guy help me? Jimmy you've hit an all time low.
 
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"Youngsters? When is this the 60's?" Jimmy said, looking at the bald man in the wheelchair. What the hell had McTaggert got him into. He looked up at the tall man with a visor over his eyes.
"And whats with the visor? You got a monobrow you cant hide or sumthin'?" he looked into the mansion interior. It was ripped apart.
Jesus Christ Doc, this place is a dump. How can this guy help me? Jimmy you've hit an all time low.
<You'd be surprised at just how much I can help, Mr. Madrox.>

The Professor just smiles politely, as if he didn't just talk inside our heads.

"You have to excuse the accommodations, we had something of a party, you could say."

The Professor looks at me and gives me that same smile.

Professor, are you in my head?

<What is it, Scott?>

I don't like this kid. He's got a bad attitude.

<Most do when they first arrive here. He'll come around, Scott.>

Remembering this kid's comment on my visor, I switch it out with my sunglasses.

"Scott has a gift, Mr. Madrox. Just like me...and just like you."
 
[BLACKOUT]
SUNFIRE
[/BLACKOUT]

The beautiful sound of knowledge in motion buzzed, the generators whirling and spinning into life. Dials glowed and flashed with the insurgence of speed within the turbines.

“Shiro, adjust to compensate for additional vibrations.”

Keying in a few figures into the computer, immense and numerous calculations were completed in seconds by the system which the success of the project relied upon.

“Done.”

CLICK……….CLICK CLICK………..CLICK………CLICK CLICK….

“That doesn’t sound right.”

“I’ll go and check it out.”

Leaving his station, the Japanese assistant walked towards the purring cylinders, hoping to find the cause of the unexpected clicking, unfortunately he did.

“We have a problem…”

Incandescent radiance filled every corner of the hall, the cracking sounds of the air itself being torn apart at the molecular level sounded like savage thunder. Smell of ozone and burning were Shiro’s only sensations as the luminescent shine temporarily removed his vision.

Soon his sight returned, and with it, the his eyes were met with chaos, the lab in ruins, his professor a shadow of his former self, smouldering flesh hanged from polished white bones. Eye sockets emptied of their gooey contents by the radiation. It was then Shiro realised the generator was still running down, spewing the leftover radiation into the room. His next realisation was somewhat more startling, how was he still standing, and seemingly fine.

Steeping towards the turbine, placing a warm and adrenaline fuelled hand onto the cold steel, he could sense the radiation as it passed into him, welling up inside.

A resource.

A miracle.

A power.
 
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<You'd be surprised at just how much I can help, Mr. Madrox.>

The Professor just smiles politely, as if he didn't just talk inside our heads.

"You have to excuse the accommodations, we had something of a party, you could say."

The Professor looks at me and gives me that same smile.

Professor, are you in my head?

<What is it, Scott?>

I don't like this kid. He's got a bad attitude.

<Most do when they first arrive here. He'll come around, Scott.>

Remembering this kid's comment on my visor, I switch it out with my sunglasses.

"Scott has a gift, Mr. Madrox. Just like me...and just like you."
"Yeh okay i know what i can do, and so do you. So what?" Jimmy said. He hoped they couldnt notice that his knees were trembling. When the blad guy had spoken in his head, it had taken all his willpower not to run like hell. Still, worst comes to worst, he could always out number them.
 
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"Yeh okay i know what i can do, and so do you. So what?" Jimmy said. He hoped they couldnt notice that his knees were trembling. When the blad guy had spoken in his head, it had taken all his willpower not to run like hell. Still, worst comes to worst, he could always out number them.
<I sincerely hope that you aren't seriously considering running away, Mr. Madrox. And fighting, while unnecessary, would be useless.>

"You have nothing to fear from us."

God, if this kid is anything like me, he hates it when the Professor switches from telepathy to speaking. It's just freaky.

<Scott, why don't you show Mr. Madrox around?>

Can he hear you?

<Not right now, no.>

Then please don't leave me alone with this kid, Professor. I can't be held responsible if I strangle him.

<Now, now, Scott...let's be nice.>

"You may know about your abilities, Mr. Madrox, but I can help you control them. I can help you access new facets of your gift that you never thought possible. Take, Scott, for instance."

Me?

"When I found him, he was unable to open his eyes due to his fear of his gift. But with these special lenses, I gave Scott his eyesight back...and more. There are a couple other students with similar stories. I'm here to help you get in touch with your mutant abilities, Mr. Madrox, while at the same time giving you a safe place to stay from the prejudices of society."
 
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<I sincerely hope that you aren't seriously considering running away, Mr. Madrox. And fighting, while unnecessary, would be useless.>

"You have nothing to fear from us."

God, if this kid is anything like me, he hates it when the Professor switches from telepathy to speaking. It's just freaky.

<Scott, why don't you show Mr. Madrox around?>

Can he hear you?

<Not right now, no.>

Then please don't leave me alone with this kid, Professor. I can't be held responsible if I strangle him.

<Now, now, Scott...let's be nice.>

"You may know about your abilities, Mr. Madrox, but I can help you control them. I can help you access new facets of your gift that you never thought possible. Take, Scott, for instance."

Me?

"When I found him, he was unable to open his eyes due to his fear of his gift. But with these special lenses, I gave Scott his eyesight back...and more. There are a couple other students with similar stories. I'm here to help you get in touch with your mutant abilities, Mr. Madrox, while at the same time giving you a safe place to stay from the prejudices of society."
Jimmy thought about it, for a few seconds. There wasnt really much to think about. He hadnt any money to get back home. Hed spent most of his life in a care home, just if you went to this one, you didnt have to go to school either. Sounded ok to him. Once you got over the talking in your head.
"Okay i suppose im in," Jimmy said sighing slightly "Just one question. Are there girls in this place?"
 
DomMrFantastic.jpg


"This place gives me the creeps, Reed."

Special Agent Reed Richards held his pistol forward, ready for any sort of attack that Dr. Diablo may have up his sleeve. Defense mechanisms and the like. "Just stick together guys."

The inside of Dr. Diablo's facility was nothing like the outside. It was equipped with tons of hi-tech equipment and computers. "Who runs all of this stuff?"

"I don't know, Ben."
He sat down at one of the computers. "Let me see if I can find anything on here." Reed began typing away on the computer. All he needed to find was four little stones. It couldn't be that hard. "Got it! Second basement level. Looks here like the defense is going to be a problem. Automated gun turrets set up to fire unless deactived. Let me see if I can shut them off." He typed some more on the keyboard.

PASSWORD: _________

Reed pulled a small USB drive from his pocket and plugged it in. Instantly, the screen flashed and the computer acklowedged a correct password. "Alright, we're in. I've deactivated all security systems for 30 minutes." He stood up and walked towards the elevator. "Let's roll."
 
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Jimmy thought about it, for a few seconds. There wasnt really much to think about. He hadnt any money to get back home. Hed spent most of his life in a care home, just if you went to this one, you didnt have to go to school either. Sounded ok to him. Once you got over the talking in your head.
"Okay i suppose im in," Jimmy said sighing slightly "Just one question. Are there girls in this place?"
"Well, there's Jean Grey and Elisabeth Braddock," I respond, referring to Jean and Psylocke.

"Quite right, Scott," the Professor responds, "And we're always bringing in new students. Now, Scott can show you to your room. Right, Scott?"

"Sure, Professor. Need help with your bags, man?"
 
MsMarvel.gif


After my interrogation of Weasel, I perform my usual post-mission ritual: I go to O'Malley's bar with Brian to take a load off.

"Ms. Marvel strikes again!" Brian announces as I enter.

I shake my head. "I wish to God you'd stop calling me that."

I sit down at the bar and order a Sam Adams. The bartender hands me my beer.

"Let's see the 'Fantastic Four' beat that," I state cynically. I guess I'm resentful. Reed and his team get all the glory while the rest of us bust our asses just to get by. I really don't see why they're so special.

Brian laughs. "Maybe they'll add you and make the Fantastic Five."

I point a threatening finger at Brian. "Don't even joke."

I face forward and sip my beer.

"I can't stand Sue Storm anyway."
 
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"Well, there's Jean Grey and Elisabeth Braddock," I respond, referring to Jean and Psylocke.

"Quite right, Scott," the Professor responds, "And we're always bringing in new students. Now, Scott can show you to your room. Right, Scott?"

"Sure, Professor. Need help with your bags, man?"
"Nah i got it," Jimmy said, punching the wall twice. Two doubles appeared, grabbing a bag each. They looked around at the wreckage.
"So...um," one of him said. The other one said what he was thinking.
"That was some party, right?"
"Wheres my room?"

 

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