The Multiversers RPG


Dark Lord of the RPG's
Aug 4, 2005
Reaction score
GMs: Johnny Blaze; Master Bruce; Byrd Man

There exist billions of universes, each one as different as it is the same. And every single one of these universes are in danger. An unknown molevolent force tampers with each reality, shifting them off their intended courses for some unknown sinister purpose. Thus the multiversal guardian, the entity known only as Chronos, has taken it upon itself to call upon a group of Chosen champions. These heroes, plucked from their world, will be given the charge of traveling the multiverse and fixing the wrongs caused by this unknown force.

But they are not alone. The dark power meddling with reality is aware of Chronos' actions. As such, it has hand picked a band of it's own henchmen from the myriad of realities to serve it as it's Agents. Their purpose is a simple one, further the goals of their evil master and stop the Chosen at all costs...


  • Characters to be played may be pre-existing characters, or they may be custom-created characters. Though information for custom characters MUST be much more detailed and thoughtout. As always, the GMs have the right to refuse any character if they deem them too powerful or the like. Custom-created character must not be a god, deity, or beings such as SHAZAM or Tyrant. As for custom-created characters, think of them as Elseworlds or What If... characters. I.E. similar to the original copy, yet different.
  • Mission ideas are gladly appreciated, in order to keep up a productive work environment. But don't get pissy if your idea does not get used. **** happens, deal with it and move on.
  • There are three types of characters in this game: CCs, or Chosen Characters (the five characters chosen by Chronos to help fix reality), ACs, or Agent Characters (the five characters chosen by the evil destroying reality to thwart the Chosen and further it's scheme), and MRCs, or Mission-Related Characters (PC played characters specific to the world the Multiversers are currently on). All require applications to play as, but each have different duties and rules. You can play as a Chosen or Agent until you die, retire, or mods say otherwise; but as an MRC, your lifespan as that given character is only as long as the mission.
  • Once the given mission is over, MRC players can fill out a new application, in accordance to the mission info. Misison info and MRC info must be related.
  • You are your character, so act like it. Talk like them, use their dialouge. Do not exaggerate your powers, or pop-up here and there without explanation. BE Your character.
  • Your first post if you are a Chosen or an Agent WILL be on your homeworld and it should end with you getting whisked away. Once all Chosen and Agents have gotten their first posts out of the way, the missions can begin.
  • Missions will be given out by Chronos and dark power to the Chosen and Agents of Chaos respectively at their home base. Both teams will then be transported to the specific world to carry out their work.
  • Players may choose to play either a Chosen or an Agent, but not both. However, they may take up a second MRC character if they so wish.
  • If you want to take part in this, just fill out an app and your name and character will appear on the roster, pending approval...

  • This is a working environment, so you can travel to different places using your powers or vehicles. Don't miraculously pop up unless you're a teleporter or such.
  • Don't do anything RANDOM like chopping off board user's heads or what not, unless your a villain chopping off inanimate victims heads, then whatever, go with it, as long as it's not technically RANDOM. Don't kill people without reason. Don't randomly kill NPC's. Do NOT kill other Player Characters unless specifically asked by the player to do so.
  • You know your weaknesses and strengths, what you can do or can't. Hellboy will lose against Thanos one on one, but may be able to use his allies to help him out or he can run away.
  • If there is a problem between you and another player, or if you have question's please talk to one of the Gamemasters The list of Gamemasters is at the top of this post.
  • There should be MINIMAL cussing and swearing in posts. There will be NO By-passing the censors. This is a Hype rule, and NO exceptions will be made for the RPG.
  • No obscene topics!
  • Do NOT criticize another poster’s character. We are not all as skilled as Gaiman or Shakespeare. Constructive criticism is okay as long as it is not offensive. This rule applies even if a poster asks for feedback.
  • The Game Masters have the final say in matters of character acceptance. You are welcome to alter the character to make it less powerful or more creative, but arguing with the Game Masters is not productive, not to mention something that you will not win. This is a game, let it be fun.
  • People who disobey these rules, some more major than the others, will get BOOTED by the Game Masters. Further problems will cause HYPE! Mods to get involved, which usually leads to user bannings, or the more severe IP Address banning.

Multiversers Application:

Character You Would Like To Play (list codename along with real name if applicable):

Powers (be as specific as you can/If you copy/paste this information from another website, link back to it, or it is considered plagiarism and is not allowed):

Character Type (Chosen, Agent, or MRC and, if they are a MRC, are they a Hero or Villain):

Universe History (give a brief description of the comic universe your character hails from/If you copy/paste this information from another website, link back to it, or it is considered plagiarism and is not allowed):

Character History (give as detailed a rundown on your character's history and origin as possible/If you copy/paste this information from another website, link back to it, or it is considered plagiarism and is not allowed):

Personality (give a detailed description of your character's personality):

Speech Color and Font (actually say what color and font you are going to use, don't just say "like this". It makes it a lot easier to add you to the roster this way):

What can you bring to this game:

Do you know how to post pictures on the Hype! Boards:

Sample Post (write a sample post as your character that is at least 4 medium-sized paragraphs long and contains at least 1 line of dialogue in the style you plan on playing your character in):



The Batman
Master Bruce

Oh Snap!

The Green Lantern

The Gunslinger
Byrd Man

The White Ranger
Green Lantern


Artemis Entreri
Johnny Blaze

Dr. Randall Dowling

Höllejunge (Hellboy)

The Question

Venom (Peter Parker)
Eddie Brock Jr.


The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.

The desert was the apotheosis of all the deserts, huge, standing to the sky for what looked like eternity in all directions.

The Gunslinger marched on through the endless sand. From the campfire leavings and the man in black's droppings, he was no more than two days ahead of him.


A crow cawed as it flew close by his barehead with a chunk of rat in it's mouth.

He marched on, his holsters swayed as he walked, the heavy guns swinging in the holsters fine oiled leather. The guns were his birthright, passsed down from Arthur Eld himself.

The son was slowly sinking as he stopped on a ridge and look down at the sprawling desert below.


With his hawkeye's, the gunslinger spyed a black figure marching towards the hazey moutains miles away. He was heading towards the moutains, to palaver with the King himself. Here he was, only mere days from the man in black. The same man who had seduced his mother and had helped The Good man, John Farson kill his father, Steven Deschain, and bring down the fall of the gunsliger's home Gilead. He would remember the face of his father as he took Marten Broadcloak's life, something he should have done the day he won his guns from Cort.

The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.​
Angel Grove, California:

Tommy Oliver walked into the Angel Grove Youth Center after a long day of school. At a table, Bulk and Skull were busy hatching another plot to discover the true identities of the Power Rangers. Tommy smiled slightly to himself, he knew but he wasn't going to tell those two. As he walked over to the bar, he looked around the room. Off in the corner, Trini and Jason were giving Billy some pointers on martial arts.

Billy's really starting to come into his own. Good. Bulk and Skull won't be so quick to pick on him when he can drop them with a quick kick...

Tommy waved to the three and sat down at the bar, next to Zack.

"Hey man. What's up?"

"Not much, just looking for Kim. You seen her?"

"Yeah, she said she was meeting you down at the lake... You forgot again didn't you?"

"...Aw man. Always something isn't it? Communicator, morpher, homework... date... Jeez. Forgive me Zack, I gotta run. Tell the others I'll catch em later."

"Will do man. See ya."

Tommy ran out the door. It wasn't the first time his absentmindedness had caused him problems, as he always had to run home to get something, quite often as the Green Ranger he had been there to save the others just in the nick of time. Recently he'd been better about remembering things, though not today.

As he ran through the park, he looked towards the lake. Standing by the paddle boats in a pink bikini was Kimberly Hart, his girlfriend, and the Pink Ranger. He embraced her and kissed her.

"Hey beautiful. Happy anniversary."

"What took you so long?"

"Uh... I ran to the Youth Center..."

"Ah. Forgot?"

Tommy looked down sheepishly and smiled. "You caught me... So what's the plan?"

"We take out a paddle boat, and enjoy a romantic day on the lake."

Just then they heard a familiar popping sound behind them, and turned around to face several of Zedd's putties.

"Aw man. Alright, lets take care of these clay freaks first."

As he said that, he punched one squarely in the chest and watched it explode. There was a crackle of electricity as what appeared to be a red lightning bolt struck the nearby paddle boat. Instantly a boat shaped monster with spinning paddles for hands rose out of the water.

"Jeez. Can anything go right today?"

"I aM PaDDleHaNDs, RaNGerS!"

He caught Kimberly off guard with one of his hands, and sent her flying several feet. Tommy backflipped out of the way, and touched a button on his watch.

"Rangers, this is Tommy, Kim and I are under attack down at the lake. Get down here!"

Back at the Youth Center:

*Beep beep doo doo beep bee*

Simultaneously, the four wrist communicators of the other Rangers chimed and the four of them ran off to the dark hallway behind the bar.

"This is Jason, whats going on?"

Tommy's voice came over the comm, and Jason nodded at the others.

"On our way."

In flashes of blue, black, yellow and red, the four teens disappeared.

Back at the lake:

In bursts of color, Billy, Zack, Trini and Jason were standing by Tommy and Kimberly.

"Man, thats one ugly cuss."

"When aren't they Zack?"

"She has a point."

"Alright, IT'S MORPHIN' TIME!"

"Saber-tooth Tiger!"


For the first time in twenty nine years, Commisioner James Gordon was actually considering retirement.

The thought came scarcely, but eerily quick, as he crossed Robinson Avenue in his newly assigned, standard patrol car. Everything about the damn vehicle not only confused him, but irritated him to the point that he couldn't think straight. All sorts of features and gadgets of which he had agreed to take on just to get the Mayor off of his back about 'letting the old ways die'. But it wasn't just the car, or the force, that was changing Gotham City. The crime was, too.

It was getting too intense, and Gordon wasn't sure he could keep up.

Speeding past the array of officers that were lined outside of the old FoxTech emporium warehouse, where a robbery and heated hostage situation had been tipped to be taking place, Gordon slammed his foot on the brake, as the car slid through the wet street, and came to a halt infront of the blockade, on the other side. Placing his hat over his head, Gordon lifted the car door, not even used to that feature, and ran out, towards the nearest officer.

"How's it coming, Captain?", Gordon asked, over the rain, as the officer looked up at the highest window, with a worried look.

"Not so well, Commisioner.", Captain Allen responded. "We've set up a parameter and given them a warning so far, but they don't seem to be cooperating. We wanted to get Swat down here ASAP, but we were awaiting your command."

"Damnation,", Gordon breathed, with a heavy sense of sorrow. If those hostages were hurt, he'd never forgive himself. "Alright. Let's try not to do anything drastic yet. I want a tactical squad set at the entrance, but nothing else. Just because Detective Driver isn't patient enough to avoid combat when it's not nessecary, doesn't mean I'm going to grant his wish. We're going in without him. That understood?"

Crispus Allen nodded. "Crystal."

"Alright. Now where the hell is Agent Bordeaux?", Gordon asked, looking up at the building.

"Can't say for certain. Last we heard, she was on her way, but she was counting on Driver to get here before you."

"Well, isn't that a shame.", Gordon irritatedly responded. "Do half of these people know I'm in charge, here?"

"Commisioner! Up there, look!"

Gordon and Allen turned, in response to the voice, before their eyes collectively widened. With a bone chilling scream louder than anything either men had heard before, a ski-masked thug came flying through the window, toppling through shards of broken glass and crate wood. Gordon and Allen ran, pushing back any officers near the area, as the thug fell, upside down, and came to a halt right before hitting the pavement. The police officers looked back, noticing a thick cable binding the dazed thug's feet. Gordon removed his glasses, in shock, as the thug began to incohesively mumble.

"What in god's name was that about?!", He exclaimed, both angered and confused, as he and Allen proceeded to the perp.

"B... B...", The thug shakenly muttered, with bolted eyes, as Gordon leaned down and ripped off his ski-mask. The criminal looked up at him... or down, in his position... revealing numerous cuts and a blackened eye. "B-B-Ba..."

"Who did this to you?", Gordon asked, urgently.

"JIM, INCOMING!", Allen prompted, looking upwards with another shocked expression.

Gordon looked back, and looked up, only to be pulled away by Captain Allen at the last second. Four other thugs came tumbling out of the broken window, screaming in a similar manner, before halting next to the first, tied in the very same manner. All of them seemed frightened, and confused, at the same time... but overly shaken, most of all, by whatever had happened to them. Gordon and Captain Allen looked upwards, towards the darkened window, as silence now replaced the screams from before. Gordon squinted, trying to make out what was up there, but it was useless. He probably knew as much about what had attacked these guys than what they did.

"Th' hell was that?", Sargeant Harvey Bullock questioned, in between a hanging cigar in his mouth.

"That's what I'd like to know, Bullock.", Gordon answered, turning to him with a hardened look. "Did your squadron see anyone enter the building? Anyone at all?"

Bullock shook his head.

"Even the snipers I had stationed didn't report anythin', Commish.", He shrugged. "Whatever got in there must've just..."

Gordon raised his eyebrow. "Must've just what?"

"Jim! One of em's saying something.", Allen called out, as Gordon and Bullock walked over, meeting him as he interrogated the only concious thug. "Tell them what you told me."

Gordon folded his arms, as the beaten and bloodied thug was cut down from his cable, and allowed to fall. The thug looked up at him, as he stared down at the would-be killer, unremorseful for the fall he had taken when cut from the line.

"Well? Let's have it."

Without warning, the thug lunged forward, and grabbed Gordon by the front of his jacket. Several officers drew their pistols, but Gordon's hand immediately shot up, signaling them to hold their fire, as the thug dropped to his knees, shaking. He wasn't attacking Gordon. He was trying to warn Gordon.

"Oh god, man! Oh god! It was horrible!", The criminal, who appeared to be at least thirty years of age, said between horrified sobs. "It was like somethin' out a hell, man! It had wings, and... and those eyes! And horns! It had frikkin' horns, man! It... It just..."

Gordon grabbed the thug's arms, and immediately cuffed him. "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to-"

"DID YOU LISTEN TO ME?!", The thug demanded back, not even caring that he was cuffed. "There's somethin' up there! It's a monster, man! A monster! This town's haunted!"

Gordon turned.

"Allen, get this clown and his buddies out of here. They've caused enough trouble for one night.", He demanded, as the Captain nodded, and began to drag the criminal away.

"You believin' any'a that drag, Commish?", Bullock inquired.

"Not in the slightest. There's no telling what kind of crap the scum of this city is hopped up on. Heroin, meth, cocaine, you name it... there's probably a hundred different rings all across the city.", Gordon responded, rubbing the base of his nose. "Now get some of your men up there to check on the hostages. They're probably scared out of their minds."

"You got it.", Bullock responded. "But, uh... if you don't mind me askin'... there isn't... I mean, it's not possible that-"

"No, goddamnit. There isn't any 'monster' up there. Now go!"

As Bullock left, Gordon's attention turned back up to the broken window. Even if his hunch about the drugs was right, and it more than likely was, someone had still thrown those creeps through the window. And whoever it was, he was strong. He had to be, to spook those guys like that. Sneering, as he trailed off, Gordon mumbled to himself. Retirement was looking damn good, right now.


"Who needs them, right?"

The young District Attorney Harvey Dent turned off the televison, as a news broadcast touched upon the incident in the early morning, hours later. He had been disgusted by the very notion that Gotham was being given a new vigilante problem. It was hard enough to function in this city knowing that the mob was running loose, but this? He wasn't sure he could handle it.

"We've got enough problems in this town without some punk, out there, trying to play Robin Hood on the streets.", Dent continued, leaning on his desk, his arms lied flat against his chest, pondering. "Know what I mean?"

"Frankly, Harvey, I wish I did.", The gentlemen sitting across from his desk stated back, with a small chuckle. "I was never one for police politics. I'd rather let the Governor worry about it. Or the Mayor. Let them fight the battles that us 'common' citizens shouldn't need to pay any mind."

"It's that kind of thinking that almost got Lex Luthor into office, Bruce.", Harvey stated back, looking through his files. "And we all know how fun things would be now if he had."

Bruce Wayne smirked, widely, taking another sip of the scotch that Harvey had poured for them. "Touche'."

Harvey sighed.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm making too much of this.", He continued, looking out the nearby window at the massive cityscape that greeted him. "I just feel like things in this city are changing way too fast. First the mob, then the serial killings... now vigilantes. I just wish I could believe that the city was going on a fast track to getting better."

"Things are changing in the city, Harv.", Bruce mused, placing his glass down. "And I'd say for the better. I mean, have you seen the girls down at the Iceburg, these days? Top class stuff, if I've ever seen it. You and I should go, sometime."

Dent laughed, at the notion. "Yeah, because we were both such lady killers back in Harvard?"

"Not my fault you couldn't get a date, back then. God knows, you had the offers,", Bruce shrugged, straightening his tie. "I just think you need to take it easy, Harvey. You've been working yourself to death over the Sal Maroni case ever since I came back into town. Sometimes, you've just got to mellow out, and live a little."

Harvey turned around, with a smirk, as Bruce grabbed his jacket. "What do you say? For old time's sake?"

Thinking it over, Dent eventually shook his head, sitting down behind his desk. "Sorry, Bruce. Any other night, and I probably would've obliged. But I've got a ton of paperwork to fill out, aswell as a council meeting before tommorow's case. I'm booked."

Bruce nodded, slicking back his hair, as he turned towards the door. "What can I say? Your loss more than mine. Take it easy."

"You too, 'Bachelor'.", Dent called out, as Bruce exited the room.

As much as Bruce had a point, Harvey couldn't help but feel as if Bruce was the one wasting his life away, rather than himself. Ever since Bruce had returned to New Gotham, a few weeks ago, all he wanted to do was party. He didn't have time for work, for charity... the important things in life. All he wanted was a girl every night, it seemed, along with a shot of every kind of alcohol in the city. As fun of a life as Bruce probably thought it was, it wasn't the life Harvey wanted to be apart of. But, he could see Bruce's concern. Maybe he would join him, one of these nights...

Until then, there was work for a District Attorney to do.

Turning, Harvey noticed the window was open, and the sun had set. Getting up from his chair, Dent grabbed the window, and pulled it closed, not even giving it a second thought. It was time to get started on that report. And the sooner that Maroni was put away for good, the better...

"Working late again, Mr. Dent?"

Harvey's eyes widened, as he heard the unknown voice echo throughout his office. The voice was grim... grinded, almost, as if to convey a constant growl of anger and rage. Getting up from his desk, Harvey looked around, to see who was there.

"What in god's name... Who's there?!", He demanded, angrily. "Show yourself!"

And there, he saw him. Draped in the corners of the shadows that followed the coming night, the horned figure in the darkness stared out at Dent with a glowing gaze, and lifeless eyes, both of which made Dent's heart skip quite a few beats. The figure never let his eyes leave the young District Attorney, as Harvey reached around for a makeshift weapon, of some sort.

"I wouldn't.", The figure acknowledged, noticing Harvey's frantic reaches. "Nothing in this office would do you any good against me. I've checked. You're quite unarmed, for an official in this city."

"Oh. Lucky me...", Dent responded, sidetracked as he continued to search, slowly inching towards the door of his office. "You've got some nerve, pal. I'm a friend of every cop in Gotham, and when they get here-"

"They won't.", The figure interrupted. "Not until I've said what I have to say."

Harvey paused, suddenly.

"Oh?", He questioned, skeptical. "And what would that be?"

"I'm here to talk about the well being of Gotham's citizens. And the downfall of it's criminals."

"I see.", Harvey inquired, playing along with this nutjob. "Well, you'll have to understand if I'm a bit hesitant to play along with someone who's just broken into my office, Mister...?"

"Please,", The figure answered, stepping out of the darkness, displaying himself in full.


"Call me... The Batman."
As the Rangers held out their morphers and shouted their Zord of power, there was a flash of each individual color of light; first white, then black, pink and blue, yellow and finally red, as each teen was transformed into a Power Ranger.

Seeing from his station on the moon that the Rangers had powered up, Zedd grumbled as he teleported more of his Putty Patrollers to aid Paddlehands.

"Avert your eyes guys! More putties!"


One of the putties seemed to reply to Billy's observation as its head wobbled side to side.

"Hey clay for brains, I wanted your input I'd ask for it."

Zack leaped high into the air doing the splits, and flipped over the putty before spinning on his hands sending the putty flying with his double kick.

Putties were falling left and right as Tommy sighted the one that Zack kicked away.

"Hey Kim, he didn't hit the Z. One, two special?"

"You read my mind!"

As the putty struggled to his feet, Tommy spun in a roundhouse kick, delivering a white boot to the chin of the putty, before rolling into curled crouch.


The putty fell back to the ground, flat on its back, as Kimberly gracefully stepped onto Tommy's shoulders.

"Upsy daisy!"

Tommy quickly stood up and threw Kimberly high into the air. Gracefully the gymnast spun around, and feet pointed, landed directly on the Z badge on the putty's chest.


"YOu aRE fORgEtTIng SoMeONe PuNKs!!"

Trini turned just in time to catch a paddle to the face.

"SABA! Teach this guy what it means to mess with us!"


As Tommy threw his saber into the air, it stayed and red lasers shot out of its eyes at the monster.

Far away on the moon, Lord Zedd howled.

"ARGH! Stupid brats! Make MY MONSTER GROW!!!"

Zedd throw his scepter the thousands of miles into the Earth's crust, and watched as Paddlehands shot skyward, like something out of a bad Japanese monster movie.
"Son of a *****!"

Corporal Hal Jordan shouted out in frustration, the empty barracks echoing his words back at him. He had been practicing with the ring for three straight hours and he was starting to lose focus. Just like he and the rest of the boys were told, he couldn't let anything get to him; frustration replacing focus.
Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Jordan brought his fingers together and bended them backwards. His fingers cracked and he let his arms fall to his sides. Alright. You ain't leaving 'till you get this right, so you might as well just do it.

Taking yet another deep breath, Jordan raised his fist towards an empty spot on the floor. In his excitement to start using the ring, Jordan had brushed everything he could aside and pushed the rest up against the wall. Green thoughts, Jordan...Green thoughts...

Suddenly, in the middle of the floor, a pair of emerald high heeled shoes appeared, much to Jordan's satisfaction. Wanting to make the most of this before he lost the image, Hal dropped the boyish smile and licked his lips. Clenching his fist tight, Jordan began.

From out of the shoes, bright green, slender legs began to reach up toward the ceiling. Calves, thighs and hips, the woman began to take shape. In no time, Hal Jordan was staring at his fiancé, the beautiful Carol Ferris, in a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, wrapped in his own coat. The clothes and her skin were green, her raven hair a darker shade of emerald.

"Perfect." Jordan smiled.

Jordan didn't move. Not even an inch. He didn't want her to fade away.
The green copy smiled at him and waved at him. God, she's beautiful.

Suddenly, a sound came from behind him. Losing focus, Hal turned swiftly as the copy of Carol disappeared from sight.

"Hello? Anyone there?"

His call was unanswered. That is, until a small voice that seemed to be coming from inside his head began to speak to him.

Heat signature detected. Target identifed as Carol Ferris, Earth.

Hal looked down at his ring, now glowing green. A few hours after he had received it, it had begun speaking to him. All completely normal, the scientists and higher-ups assured him, but where Hal came from, a voice in your head meant you were nuttier than a Snickers bar, no two ways about it.


Carol Ferris appeared in the doorway, her arms folded and her head tilted to the side, a look of irritation on her face. "You know, that damn ring has made it impossible to surprise you. You better not wear it on your birthday."

Hal laughed. "I promise"

"So, big-shot superhero soldier, you wanted to talk to me?"

"More than anyone."


Like a ghost in the darkness, Entreri moved about the hallway of the old mansion unseen, his black cloak pulled tightly around him. He made no sound as he darted from shadow to shadow, his hands resting comfortably on the hilts of his weapons. Entreri froze suddenly and spun behind a nearby statue of a beautiful elf maiden as a door in front of him creaked open.

Entreri's eyes narrowed as the guard closed the door and walked down the hallway towards him. Entreri tightened the hood of his black cloak around him and clung to the shadows, and the oblivious guard walked right on by. When the guard had passed well enough, Entreri sprang back into action and made his way to the door at the end of the hallway. Running his fingers along the door jam, Entreri began his search.

Artemis scoffed and shook his head. No traps.

The man's either extremely brave, or a fool, he thought to himself.

The assassin calmly placed his ear to the door and listened. He could hear talking inside. One voice he recognized as his target, the fat merchant Silias who had dared to cross Pasha Giram. The other Entreri did not recognize, and it really didn't matter. There were two of them against the one of him.

They stood no chance.

Entreri grabbed the handle and gently gave it a turn. Not locked.

With one hand on his jeweled dagger, Entreri turned the doorknob fully and burst into the room.

The merchant Silias sat behind a large desk counting coin while discussing business with a man in gray robes.

Entreri cursed under his breath. A wizard. How he hated spellcasters.

Both men turned to see who it was that was intruding on their business, and the eyes of Silias went wide with horror.

"You", the merchant uttered in a hushed tone of fear.

"Yes, me", replied Entreri in a cold, forceful monotone as his gaze pierced the eyes of the merchant. A gaze that sent shivers down the spines and froze the blood of even the hardiest of men.
Without another word, Artemis Entreri unsheathed his weapons and burst into action.

Immediately Entreri set upon the spellcaster as the mage began his predictable chant. Planting his left foot and springing forward, Entreri closed the gap between them in one mighty leap. His longsword leading, the assassin sliced diagonally across at the wizard's throat, but the mage cut his chant short and ducked the blow...and found the waiting jeweled dagger lodged right in his gut.

Entreri pulled the blade free, leaving the spellcaster to collapse to the floor moaning as he futilely struggled to keep his intestines from spilling out onto the fine Calimshan rug.

In the few seconds it took for Entreri to dispatch the wizard, Silias managed to draw his own blade, a curved kopesh of fine make with a large emerald as it's pommel.
Entreri, having never slowed his pace even after dispatching the wizard, stepped high onto the merchant's desk and somersaulted over the wild slice of Silias.
As he leapt over his prey, the assassin twisted in mid-air so that when he landed on his feet, he was directly behind the frightened merchant, his deadly dagger's blade held firmly to his throat.

"You're weapon", Entreri stated in his trademark cold, forceful monotone.
Silias did not hesitate to drop the blade, which clanged as it hit the hard wood, drowning out the dying moans of the wizard just a few feet away.

""P-perhaps we c-can make a deal", stammered the merchant as Entreri pressed the blade harder against the man's throat.

Artemis only gave a smirk and chuckled.

"I-I am a wealthy man", stated Silias as he continued to plead for his life.
"I can double whatever it is they are paying you!"

Entreri's expression turned to one of steeled rage as he drew the slightest line of blood across the man's throat. A wound no more major than a paper cut. But it was all the assassin needed for his infamous jeweled dagger to work it's demonic magicks.

Silias eyes went wide with horror as he felt his life force, his very soul, being taken from him as though the blade was drinking it from his being with a straw. He opened his mouth to scream, but Entreri's command quickly stopped him.

"Scream and I will obliderate your very being."

"Please", Silias let out in a whimper as tears welled up in his eyes and ran down his cheeks.

"Please what", scoffed Entreri, "please don't kill you?"

"You dared to steal from Pasha Giram. You knew full well the consequences that your actions would bring. And now you beg me for mercy?"

Silias did not reply. Mainly due to the fact that he could not compose himself enough to respond, but also because he knew that whatever he said would make no difference.
This was Artemis Entreri. The greatest and most feared killer in all of Calimshan. There was no bartering with this man.

"But do not fear, for today is your lucky day", Entreri smiled to the merchant.
"You wish for mercy? I shall grant you it then."

In one fluid motion, Entreri ripped the dagger across Silias' throat, opening him up from ear to ear.
The merchant gargled and gagged as he fell to his knees, clutching at his open throat. As he writhed around on the floor behind his desk, Entreri casually cleaned his beloved jeweled dagger off on Silias' robes.

It was not long before the man's gyrations stopped.

Enteri sheathed his weapons and began rummaging through the merchant's desk.
There were many bags of gems and coins of all shapes and sizes, but Entreri let them be. His eyes did however perk up when he came across a small vial of yellow liquid, a potion of some kind, and a plain copper ring with a few arcane marks upon it.
Enteri snatched both items up and placed them into his belt pouch. He would find out what, if any, magical properties they held later.
Right now the sound of footsteps from the hallway told him that it was time to depart.

Turning to the window behind Silias' desk, Entreri pushed it open, letting the cool desert breeze waft in. Without a second thought, Entreri leapt out of the window and landed in the street with a roll to lessen the impact.

The two guards, their sword's drawn, entered the room and their eyes went wide with horror as they saw the scene of carnage before them.
Moving to the open window, one of the guards stuck his head out and scanned the area.
But it was too late.

Artemis Entreri was already gone once more into the darkness from whence he came...

“The paranormal events that have been gripping the world for this past year can finally be explained. A race of evil beings from the dawn of time, the Ogdru Jahad, are planning on returning to this world with their spawn the Ogdru Hem. They will burn the earth to a cinder, destroying all life, before ushering in a new age of man. We cannot let this happen after fighting a hundred times over for our Nazi ideals. We shall prepare the armies of this united world and face this terror together, with the maximum force. Special Branch have already come up with a plan to destroy the Ogdru Jahad, using our field agent Hollejunge. It has begun gentlemen,”
-Adolf Hitler in an address to the Nazi High Council in Berlin, 11th January 2008
Hollejunge stood on the landing pad, rain beating down on his horned head. He watched the German occultists and scientists board the zeppelin, before turning to make sure the Paranormal Division were ready.

“Obersturmführer Sherman, are the Para division present and correct?”
he growled, looking at the small woman with the military buzz cut. She gave a curt nod and walked to the group of people on the carrier.

“Form up!” she barked, and the group quickly bundled into a line. She walked up and down the line before taking out her clipboard and calling the names of every member. She reached the last few, at the opposite end of the line. These were the creatures of paranormal origin found from around the Empire.

“Truppfuhrer Sapien!” she shouted.

“Present!” came the reply of the aquatic creature. Sapien looked bizarre in military gear, helmet on head. The quartermaster could not find any boots that fit, so Sapien was barefoot. There was a machine gun strapped to his back.
“Schafuhrer Johann Kraus!” she barked.

“Present,” came the reply.

“Homunculus 082,” she called out. The creature merely nodded. Sherman turned back to Hollejunge.

“Paranormal Division present and correct Obergruppenfuhrer,” she said, saluting smartly. Hollejunge smiled a little. He was quite fond of Sherman and her officious ways, it amused him. He would make sure to keep her alive. The door to the main building opened, and a skeletal old man hobbled through followed by a multiple of doctors and nurses. Every member of the paranormal division saluted and the call of “Hail Hitler” was heard around he landing platform.

“Hollejunge,” he gasped hobbling forwards. Hollejunge walked over to save him the effort of moving any further.

“Mein Fuhrer,”
he said in a hushed tone “ I thought the doctors had told you not to leave the hospital again. Why are you here?”

“To see you off my boy,” he croaked “and to run over the plan one more time,”

Hollejunge smiled again. That was the Fuhrer for you, double and triple checks. Everything must go according to plan.

“Rasputin’s spirit has convinced the Tsar that the only way for a Russian victory is to open up a portal to the limbo where the Ogdru Jahad are currently held in their crystal prison. We think that he and his occultists have found a way to release them from their prison. This may be our chance to destroy the Ogdru Jahad once and for all. You must enter the portal with Sherman and combine the Hand of Doom and her pyrotechnic abilities to obliterate the dimension where they are held. You understand me Hollejunge?” Adolf Hitler croaked.

“Yes Fuhrer,”
he said. The frail old man gripped him with a weak hug.

“There is one last thing. There are reports that the Russians have summoned daemons to fight for them. These so called ‘Frogmen’ are faster and stronger than we are. Keep safe,” he muttered. Hollejunge turned to the Paranormal Division.

“Enter the zeppelin!”
he bellowed. The units filed onto the great balloon, Sherman entering last. Hollejunge gave a respectful nod to Hitler and walked onto the zeppelin.
“Entering Russian Airspace. It should be about five minutes to St. Petersburg,” the aviator called back into the hull. Hollejunge checked the Aryan again, loading Creature Killer rounds into it. He had been trained years earlier by Nazi sharpshooters, so he was now one of the best marksmen in the Empire. He looked up as Sherman approached him looking nervous.

“Yes Obsturmfuhrer?”
Hollejunge asked.

“Permission to speak freely sir?”
Sherman asked. Hollejunge smiled.

“Permission granted Obsturmfuhrer,”
he said.

“If we don’t survive sir…”
she said looking at him awkwardly.

he said. She was interrupted with a loud bang and an explosion. A piercing alarm sounded as smoke filled the zeppelin. Hollejunge rushed through into the aviators cockpit.

“We’re under fire sir,” they cried.

“Yes I can see that,”
he said “prepare to drop us off here,”

He made his way into the jumping bay, where the men stood ready with their parachutes. He gave them a nod.

“I’m not good on motivational speeches. Just know, that if you fail me I will make each and every one will suffer in a unique and imaginative way,” he growled.

The soldiers nodded, before the green light went and the hatch opened. Hollejunge pushed each man out one by one, some of them wearing specialised parachutes. After the third man he jumped out himself, waiting till the right height before pulling the chord and opening the chute. He was immediately jerked upwards and started floating downwards towards a burning village on the outskirts of St. Petersburg. He could hear gunfire and shells crashing into the buildings.

There was a Russian soldier on the spot Hollejunge was heading for. As he got near enough to the ground, he cut himself free and freefell to the earth, landing heavily on the ground. He picked himself up, as the Russian soldier looked at him in horror. Hollejunge advanced on him, and lifted him by his neck.

“Please, I have family,” he croaked. Hollejunge squeezed on his windpipe, choking him. The Russian gurgled and died and Hollejunge threw him to the ground. His squad mates turned round the corner and Hollejunge dropped his head, charging them. The great horns on his head that he had sharpened to a point stabbed through the chest of one of the soldiers. He hit one in the jaw with the Hand of Doom, knocking his head off and picked the other one up by his uniform.

“Where is Rasputin?”
he hissed. The soldiers eyes grew wide. Hollejunge began to grip his neck harder before the eyes turned black. He could see the spirit of Rasputin in these eyes.

“Why try and prevent it Hollejunge? Go along with your destiny. Help us rule this earth,”
he said, not at all affected by the pain that wasn’t his own. Hollejunge clasped his hand around the soldiers head, and crushed his skull. He turned as Sherman came running around the corner, machine gun out, shortly followed by Sapien and Kraus.

“Where is the rest of the squad?”
he growled.

“All dead sir,”
Sherman gasped. There was blood running down a scratch on her cheek from a shrapnel wound. He gestured towards the village centre.

“Let’s go,”
he said bluntly. The four creatures walked quickly and stealthily to the village centre, where the statue had been ripped apart by a shell. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, Hollejunge saw five figures in dark hoods stood in a pentacle around the statue. He could hear them chanting in an ancient language that made his skin crawl. He pulled the Aryan from his jacket, and shot one of the chanters dead.

But it was too late. The ground beneath the statue cracked apart, swallowing what debris was left. As the four creatures watched a hand came out of the whole, grasping at the ground and pulling itself out. The naked creature raised its head and let out a long howl. It shuffled over to the dead necromancer, and pulled the robes onto itself.

Sherman whispered. The undead thing turned, its face a skull framed with skin. The other four necromancers drew pistols from their robes and aimed it at the Nazis.

“You fools. You cannot stop what is to come,”
Rasputin whispered, long dead words. Hollejunge dropped his head and charged the zombie, spearing it on his horns.

“It is over Rasputin,”
he growled. Hollejunge had a brief glimpse of an arcane symbol on the monsters hand before it grabbed the Hand of Doom.

’And when the symbol of the Ogdru Jahad touches the Hand of Doom, the
portal shall open and the great Dragons will return from their crystal prison’,” Rasputin quoted.

Hollejunge felt the hand burning, and his eyes glowed red. He couldn’t see, but he heard gunfire around him and the inhuman shout as Sapien was killed. His vision returned, and Rasputin lay draped across his horns, quite dead. There was a purple shimmering in front of him. A tentacle wound its way through the shimmering, grabbing his neck and choking him. Hollejunge grabbed the Good Aryan from his jacket, and shot the tentacle off of his neck.

He jumped backwards. Sherman was hiding behind a small rock, firing blindly over the top. Johann Kraus took a bullet to his visor, shattering it and setting his ectoplasm loose into the battlefield. There were more Russian soldiers now , two squads at least. Hollejunge fired wildly with the Aryan, charging round the square, maiming and killing all who stood in his way. The portal was widening now, with more and more tentacles coming out. One wrapped around Sapiens body and dragged it through the entrance.

Sherman took a bullet to the shoulder and fell backwards. Hollejunge made his way over to her.

she gasped. There was a bullet hole in her stomach as well, blood dripping from her mouth.

“Do you’re duty Sherman,”
he growled. She nodded quietly. Her eyes closed and flames erupted from her body. Hollejunge stood back as the flames grew. The gunfire slowed, then stopped as everyone watched. Sherman levitated into the air, arms spread as the flames leapt from her body. Her head lolled back and he could now longer see her body amongst the flames. Then she let out a long, high pitched scream.

Then Hollejunge’s world started fading black. He could see his hands and his jacket, but the world around him was gone. When Sherman finally exploded, incinerating anyone in a thirty mile radius, Hollejunge was gone.
The hot sun looked down on the streets of Dubai, though Erik Colins wouldn't have known this, tucked away safely in his air conditioned office. Erik Colins was a man who had everything. He was wealthy and succesful and comanded great respect. But it all felt for naught. The 48 year old businessman felt like he had hit rock bottom, all because of what the young man standing in front of him had just told him.

"Lucas..." he said, barely able to collect his thoughts.

Lucas Leysmith, Erik's right hand man of three years, stood in silence. His tall, wirey frame was barely noticeable. His face carried the weight of unwanted knowledge.

"I'm sorry Erik, but it's true."

Erik stared down at his desk, desperately searching for words.

"How long?" he asked.

"Well," said Lucas, "I'd say they've been at it for about a year now."

Erik looked up at Lucas with eyes that were practically on the verge of tears.


"Erik, I am so sorry. But I had to tell you..."

"Yes," said Erik. "You did."

Erik stood, and looked around at his office. He ran his fingers across his oak desk, feeling the familiar grain against his skin. He turned his eyes back to Lucas.

"Thank you," he said.

He walked towards the door and left his office at a casual pace, leaving the door open behind him. Lucas watched him as he left, and then walked over to the door and shut it. He turned, and looked around at what was now his. In two hours time, Erik would kill his wife and himself. Use the revolver he keeps in the cigar case in his study, most likely.

The thought of this put a smile on his scarred lips.

He sat down in the leather chair and propped his feet up on the desk. He ran his fingers through his firey red hair before pulling a list out of his pocket. He took a pen off the desk and crossed out "Become unimaginably wealthy." The only things left on the list were "Buy out Playboy," "Destroy Thor," "Free Children," and "Burn Asgard to the ground."

He put the list back in his pocket and smiled again as he began to hum the tune to the Disney song "I Just Can't Wait to be King."
J. Jonah Jameson hated walking home at dusk.

The city wasn't safe anymore - not that it ever had been, really. And when he walked alone, as he was doing tonight, he came face-to-face with an emotion he was unfamiliar with. Though the rough-edged Daily Bugle editor would never admit it, when he walked around on the streets, he felt fear.

Like so many other inhabitants of the contaminated city, Jonah had gotten into the habit of carrying a small pistol in his jacket. His grip on the cool metal handle tightened as he rounded the final corner before his apartment building. Jonah lived in a fancy penthouse, which stood in stark contrast to the surrounding slums.

Once inside the building, Jonah entered the elevator with a sigh of relief. He had survived another treacherous walk home. Deep down, he despised himself for giving into the collective terror. But the threat was real now. Spider-Man had turned - just like Jonah predicted all those years. His satisfaction with being right was outweighed by his anxiety, however.

No one could have expected Spider-Man's actions after showing his 'true colors.' First, the Fantastic Four tried to talk some sense into him. But Spider-Man - or Venom, as he called himself now - had become non-responsive. In a fit of rage, he attacked his former friends - killing Reed Richards in the process. The world was horrified.

As the remaining Fantastic Four grieved their loss, other members of the superhero community stepped up to put down this Venom threat. Daredevil lasted four hours before dying by Venom's hand. Ant-Man, however, only lasted one. Venom made his message very clear:

Leave me alone.

And so everyone did. No one dared confront the monster. Fear for their life kept them in line. Venom was satisfied, and the frequency of his killings lessened. However, without Spider-Man in their way, men like Norman Osborn and Otto Octavius quickly seized control of the city. Kingpin, now uninhibited by the death of Daredevil, continued to expand his empire. Both the Fantastic Four and the Avengers felt losses among their ranks - Venom had them frightened.

The city became a wasteland, and men like Jameson struggled daily to get by.

Jonah entered his apartment quietly, tossing his keys onto the desk. It took him only seconds to realize that he was not alone. Drawing his pistol, he aimed it at the figure in the armchair.

Suddenly, a flash of light revealed the face of the man. Jonah was taken aback, and he lowered his weapon.



"Parker?!" Jonah announces loudly as he recognizes me. He puts his pistol down and takes off his jacket. But his eyes remain fixated on me. "What are you doing here?!"

Ignoring his inquiry, I call out from the darkness of his apartment, "You always wondered how I could get such clear photos of Spider-Man."

Jonah stares at me in bewilderment. "Spider-Man?! What are you talking about?! How did you get in here?!"

"I mean, it didn't make sense," I continue, ignoring him again, "I was just a teenager - and I was getting better pictures than experienced photographers. How in the world did I always seem to be in the right place at the right time?"

Jonah doesn't even bother to say anything now. He realizes that I'm not listening to him anymore. Right now, I have the floor. So I pull myself out of the armchair and continue speaking.

"No one could possibly be that lucky, right?" I ask rhetorically. I inch towards Jonah, and he tries to back up. Much to his horror, he backs right into the door. His eyes widen with terror as he realizes that he can't go any farther. Hell, I bet that he probably doesn't even know why he's afraid of me right now - not yet anyway.

"After all, it was inconceivable to think that timid, little Peter Parker might actually be Spider-Man."

The pieces of the puzzle come together for Jonah. He's shocked that he didn't think of it first.

"Oh yes, Jonah," I assure him calmly, "I am Spider-Man. At least...I was."

Jonah swallows hard before stating, "Then that means that you're Venom, too."

I nod, confirming his worst fear. He's trapped in an apartment with a dangerous, murderous person. I've killed people far more threatening than and old newspaper editor. "It's a terribly long story, but while I was away on an alien planet, I came into contact with a symbiote," I explain briefly. "At first, it just seemed to be a cool new suit--"

"The Black-Suited Spider-Man!" Jonah exclaims. It's funny how everything makes sense when someone explains it to you in retrospect.

"--But I soon found that the black suit enhanced my abilities. Unfortunately, I also found out that it was alive, and it wished to bond with me permanently," I continue. "I considered getting rid of it before it was too late, but the rewards were too great to pass up."

I can see Jonah reaching for his pistol. I suppose it's time to wrap this up.

"You were right about me all along, Jonah," I hiss. "You knew exactly what Spider-Man was capable of. If only more people had listened to you, maybe you wouldn't die here today."

"Why?" Jonah asks desperately. For a man who seemed so combative in life, he's pathetically weak when on the edge of death.

I smile a big, toothy smile. "You have to ask? After all the trash you talked about Spider-Man...after all the Hell you put Peter Parker really need a reason why I'm killing you here today?"

My black hoodie and jeans melt into my suit. The giant jaws of Venom close over my face as the transformation completes itself.

"Trust me, Jameson - I've been waiting for this for a long time..."

Artemis Entreri walked down the dusty street of Calimport, capital of Calimshan. Entreri walked with a purpose through the bustling crowd of the large port city, keeping his weapons, especially his infamous jeweled dagger, hidden from the prying eyes of those around him.
Merchant stands lined the streets, selling everything from fine beads from Memnon, the Calimshan city of Entreri's birth, to fine silks and linens from as far away as Cormyr. Between almost every merchant stand stood a tavern or shop of some kind, most of the latter making their trade in selling opium to the peasants.

Entreri frowned. How he detested the opium dealers, pushing their poison onto the poor bastards of Calimport. Preying off of their misery and taking every little piece of copper or silver they could from them while they waste away into nothingness.
How Entreri also hated the addicts. Their wills too weak to even attempt to find a better way. They have simply resigned to their lot in life and hide their problems behind the pipe.

Pathetic, Entreri thought to himself as he entered one such building, casually pushing aside a junkie that was in his way, but with enough force to knock the man unceremoniously on his bottom.

The man looked up and began to protest, but stopped and looked away as Entreri shot him a chilling glare.

Artemis Entreri made his way towards the back of the house, and eventually stood in front of a large man that seemed to have more than a bit of ogre blood in him. The man, at least seven feet tall, gripped the large scimitar tightly that hung on his sash as he looked Entreri over.

"I have business with Talbot", he stated matter-of-factly to the ogreish man.
The behemoth simply nodded in reply and stepped aside, allowing Entreri entrance into the room he guarded.

Opening the door, Entreri found himself in the familiar organized chaos of Talbot Artreu.
Talbot had come to Calimport seven years prior from the kingdom of Tethyr to find riches, but Entreri knew it was more likely that he was on the run. In either case, the man had carved a nice niche in the city. He was a major player in the underground drug and slave trade, and he specialized in identifying and trading magical objects. Which was what brought Entreri to his door those many years ago.

Moving past the clutter of old books, boxes, and trinkets, Entreri made his way to stand before the sitting Talbot as he gently closed an old tome he was reading.

"Ah, so very nice to see you, my friend", exclaimed Talbot with a smile. He was a large man with a dark beard that showed to carry as much dirt and dust as the books he frequently read.

"I am not your friend", reminded Entreri flatly, "you would do well to remember that."

"Hahahahaha", Talbot bellowed as he slapped his hands together, "one of these days I will get you to lose that scowl. If just for a bit."

Entreri just frowned even more, which brought more laughter from the jovial Talbot.

"I have no time for your antics", stated Entreri as he reached into his pouch, "I need you to identify these items for me."

"Very well", replied the still chuckling Talbot as he took the vial of yellow liquid and the ring from Entreri's grasp.

Talbot placed both items on the desk in front of him and looked to Entreri as if to suggest something is missing.
Understanding the man's gaze, Entreri reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a small bag of coins. Tossing it on the work desk, the bag opened slightly and a trio of gold coins fell out.

"Very good", smiled Talbot as he reached for the bag, but Entreri's hand moved quicker as it grasped Talbot's wrist tightly.
"If I find that you are lying to me about these item's worth...", the assassin said, leaving the threat to the imagination.

Talbot looked at Artemis, his face a sudden mask of seriousness.
"There is no need for threats, Entreri. We have been conducting business for over four years now. Not once have I led you astray. I would think that would earn me a little trust?"

Artemis Entreri released the man from his iron grip and took a step back, his hands resting comfortably on the hilts of his fine weapons.
"I learned at a very young age that I cannot trust in, or count on anyone but myself. To do so invites deceit and despair, and opens a vulnerability that can be exploited. To do so is a weakness."

Talbot simply shook his head and sighed in resignation.
"Sometimes I do pity you, Artemis."

"Save your pity for somebody who cares. Now, if you don't mind doing your job...", Entreri replied evenly.

Talbot didn't further the conversation. He knew that he was already trying the patience of the man, and that to continue to do so could, or more accurately would, invite disaster.
So Talbot Artreu began to chant silently to himself as he held the items Entreri had given him in each hand. After a handful of seconds both items began to radiate a blue aura, signifying their magical nature.


"You have done well for yourself this time, Artemis. This potion", Talbot said as he gave it back to the assassin, "is a magical brew that will grant it's wielded the strength of a giant for a short period of time. Should come in handy in your line of work."

"And the ring?"

"The ring", continued Talbot as he handed the item in question back to Entreri, "is another very useful item. The ring is enchanted with the freedom of movement spell. It will allow you to travel freely through terrain that would normally slow you, such as a bog would. Also, even magics such as a web or a paralysis spell will not be able to hold to you."

"You can even move underwater as though you were on dry land. Though breathing under the sea is another matter entirely", smiled the fat Talbot as he let loose a small chuckle as Entreri put the ring on his finger.
Immediately Artemis felt a wave of energy wash over him, and suddenly felt as though nothing could impede his path.

Interesting, he thought to himself as he looked at the little ring on his right hand.

"Until next time, Talbot", spoke Entreri with a small nod before turning and walking towards the door.

"Yes, next time, my friend. And then perhaps I will finally see Artemis Entreri smile, yes", he yelled after the assassin with a smile and a laugh.
Though if Entreri heard him he made no sign of it. He simply continued his walk through Talbot's house and back out onto the streets of Calimport. He had other business to attend to, after all. And Pasha Giram was one that didn't like to be kept waiting...

Night had almost graced the land as The Gunslinger started to make camp. He used the bits of devil grass that graced the land as kindling, for it was the only bit of vegetation that grew in the harsh desert.

He sat cross-legged by the fire as he used the last little bits of tobacco in his pouch to roll a cigarette. He had last restocked his supplies in Tull, a town that, thanks to him, was as dead as this endless desert. He pushed these thoughts out of his mind as he inhaled the tobacco deeply and savored it's flavor. If his thoughts didn't haunt him tonight, he might just find his hand before he falls to sleep.

But for the Gunslinger, he will have to wait to find his hand. For now he starts to fade from the desert, unbeknownst to him, and fade from sight.

They say old soldiers don't die, they fade away. The Gunslinger was indeed fading away, but his journery was not yet over. Indeed, it was just beginning.​
The Green Lantern

Hal Jordan looked into the eyes of the person that was the sole reason he didn't put the end of a gun into his mouth after he was pulled out of the POW camp back in Korea, like most of his friends had.
Sure, he had considered it. Hell, he even picked out the gun he would use for the job. But the moment he met Carol Ferris all of the pain, mental and physical, seemed to evaporate. The crushing guilt lifted. The cloud of self-loathing parted. All there was, were her beautiful brown eyes, her warm embrace.

"Honey? You wanted to talk?"

His eyes snapped back into focus and his hands found Carol's. Reciting the speech he had spent the last few nights writing, starting from scratch countless of times, Hal smiled and finally spoke up.

"Carol, you saved my life. I was...I was at the bottom of the barrel when I met you. It would have been so easy to go the other way, to give up. I mean, a man only has so much will power." Hal gave a wry smile as he lifted the hand bearing the Green Lantern ring, but Carol's eyes never left his. "But you, you pulled me up. You saved me. With your heart, your soul...You...Carol, you are the most amazing person I've ever met. My love for you, my undying love, could run a thousand of these rings."

Carol's eyes begun to glaze over and she smiled, a single tear running down her cheek. Hal wiped the tear away, running a finger across her soft skin.

"Carol, strip away this ring, take away my ranks and I am nothing. Without you, I am nothing." For the first time in years, Hal felt tears swell up in his eyes. Holding them back, he got down on bended knee. Carol silently gasped as she held a hand in front of her mouth, the other still in his.

"Heh. Carol Ferris, would you do me the immeasurable honor of being my wife?"

The moment the words had left his mouth, Carol fell into his arms, tears now running down her face. She laughed and he almost felt his heart grow in size right there on the spot. "Yes! Yes, Hal Jordan, you lucky, lucky man, I'll be your wife."

Hal could no longer contain his excitement and he stood up, still holding Carol in his arms. With a smile on his face he shouted in joy. "WOOOOHOOOO!!!!!"

Carol let out a huge laugh as she and Hal kissed passionately. "Quiet, you! You'll bring the entire Corps down on us!" she laughed and kissed him again. For a moment, it seemed like they would never part. Like they were no longer two people, but a single soul.

"I will love you 'till the day I die, and after that I'll love you even more."

"I love you, too. I love you, I love you and I'll never stop."

Letting go of Carol's body and immediately wanting to throw his arms back around her, Hal reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small golden band. On top was a perch for a diamond, but it was empty.
Looking down at the band, Carol's hope-inspiring glee turned to minor confusion.
Hal slipped the band over her ring-finger, and then looked into her eyes, gesturing to the green ring on his own hand. "This ring is powered by thought. I can create whatever I want, and as long as I keep thinking about it, it exists. The moment the image leaves my mind, it disappears. The ring on your finger means I will never, ever stop thinking about you. I may be a thousand miles away, but you will always be on my mind."

Raising her hand, Carol looked back down at the ring on her finger. Where before there had been an empty space, now sat a glowing, emerald diamond fitted perfectly onto the ring. She gasped, and more tears of joy ran down her cheek. "Oh, Hal..."

"Whenever we're apart, look down and know that I am thinking of you." Their lips met again and they felt more happiness than either had in their entire lives.


"So, how'd it go Corporal? What'd she say?"

Hal smiled at the rookie and could barely contain his joy. "This isn't a tea-party, Rayner. Get back to work, and don't say a word until you've managed to form a big ol' green truck for me."

Looking back at the spot he had been assigned to form his constructions, Pvt. Kyle Rayner smiled and pointed the ring to the floor. "Congratulation Corporal, she's one great girl."

Corporal Hal Jordan did not reply. "Corporal?"
Hal Jordan was not there. He was gone. He didn't know it at the time, but he had been recruited for the most important mission he would ever be a part of.

Hal Jordan was no longer in this world, but somewhere, a diamond still shone as bright as ever.



Rat Alley...


"Why don't you just give up, Simmons? The way I see it, you either: A. Help us take over heaven and rule the earth, or B. Die."

I could feel the life being squeezed out of me, if I had any. Trapped in Violator's hand, he reminded me of what I've been searching for. My humanity. Could it be possible there's none left...​

"C'mon 'Spawn'. Use your power. You know you want to..."


As my mask covered my scarred face, I then started to elongate my spikes until they poked through his hand until it became a necroplasm spewing pulp.​


"Really..." he said as he slowly shifted back to Clown. Then, taking advantage of his weakened state, fired a shot of Necroplasmic energy at his chest, knocking him down before poucing at him while he was down.​



"Do it. Kill me. But you'll never see Wanda again...."

I pulled him up by his shirt until our eyes were level.​

"What did you do with her?" I asked as my chains started flailing violently and stared at him like snakes. He did nothing but laugh.​

"I have had enough! TELL ME!!"

"Not even if hell freezes over."

The rage inside was enough to raise a bladed fist. As it increased, so did my arm. Wanda was my life. Is my life. Is what's left of my heart. And now he has her for leverage... But I can't let Malebolgia win...​

"C'mon Al. Kill me. Cut my head off. Then Wanda and Cyan will be nothing but memories..."

He continued to laugh. My eyes widened. He has Cyan too. The will power to keep from slashing his head off grew weaker and weaker. But their lives were at stake.​

"Enough." I murmured, dropping him to the pavement.​


My mask unraveled to show my scarred face yet again. "You'll never win, Clown. I have you beat. You can't do anything to me."

"YOU'RE WRONG! I can kill you!" He said drawing a crescent shaped knife, and jabbing it into my neck. I gasped, feeling it circle through half my neck, until everything froze in place. Even Violator. I had no idea why. But it couldn't have come at a better time. I pulled the knife out, but necroplasm started to drip out like green blood, and as I concentrated on healing my wound, all I saw was a bright light...​


Then the one known as Spawn had dissapeared from the Earth. Not dead. Not in heaven. Not in hell. Just transported to where his next adventure, and the truth of Wanda and Cyan's whereabouts, will begin....
The Playboy Mansion was in flames.

People ran screaming from the Los Angeles landmark as the fire consumed it and the sounds coming from within died down. Inside, Loki stood calmly before his son, the wolf beast Fenrir, and the bloodied form of Thor, the Viking God of Thunder, who lay on the ground with Fenrir's foot pressing down on his chest. The sly one looked down at his long time rival and smiled.

"This right here, this good. This is VERY good."

Loki began to pace in a circle around the two large figures in the room.

"Here we are. The favored son of a very...physical society, little more than a violent thug with a "heart of gold" at his very best, defeated by me. The brainy kid. The one who, in both societies of warriors and barbarians, was considered a joke."

He reached out his hand and ran his fingers through the flames like smooth velvet.

"It's just so satisfying. I wonder if razing Asgard will be able to compare."

He looked down at Thor and smiled.

"Eh, probably."

Thor looked up at the Trickster with a hate that could melt the ice of Jotenheim.

"...damn you, Loki..."

Loki rolled his eyes.

"Been there, done that, all I got was a lousy T-Shirt, yada yada yada. This started turning into a horribly cliched villain speech a while back. Fenrir, kill him."

But then Loki was gone. There wasn't a flash, or a sound, or a puff of smoke. He was just gone, leaving his son and his enemy horribly conused.

Elsewhere, Loki felt somewhat similarly.

"....that was badly timed. What the hell is going on here?!"

As the Rangers called their Zords, the monster shouted at them. "TsK tsK! YoU aREn'T WEaRiNG yOuR SUNblOck!"

He spun his hand and out shot a ray of bright yellow light, hitting the Thunder Megazord in the chest. Inside the cockpit the five Rangers were jostled by the blast.

"Two can play that game, right Saba?"

"Right you are Tommy!"

"Alright, lets do it then. Tiger ball ready now!"

Out of the Tiger head on the front of Tommy's zord a ball of red energy shot out, knocking the monster to its back.

"Alright, guys, your turn to finish him off!"

"Right, Tommy! Thunder Saber POWER UP!"

As lightning struck the sword in the giant robots hand, it slashed through the monster's chest. In a cloud of explosions the monster disappeared.


The six teens were back in the park.

"Heck of a date, eh Kim?"

"I'd say its pretty standard for us. Remember the Purse monster?"

"Ugh. Don't remind me. Try again tomor..."

Before he could finish, Tommy was gone in a flash of white light.

"Tommy? Where'd he go?"

"Looks like he teleported."

"Doesn't appear to match the molecular frequency of the morph grid teleportation however."


"What Billy's trying to say is that it didn't look like Zordon's beam."

"One way to know for sure."

Jason tapped his wrist.

"Zordon, come in."

"Yes Jason?"

"Where did Tommy go?"

"I do not know, Rangers. Alpha is searching for him now."

"Aye aye aye! I am having no luck Zordon!"

To Be Continued...
After finishing off Jameson once and for all, I head for the apartment of another old friend. He'll be waiting for me - I just know it.

"Hello, Harry," I call out from the balcony. Just as I suspected, he's waiting in his armchair - glass of scotch in hand. "Mind if I have a drink?"

Harry motions lazily to the bottle perched on the ledge next to me. He really has been waiting for this. "Help yourself," he states quietly while taking a sip.

"I think I will," I hiss menacingly. But instead of reaching for the scotch, I allow the suit to take over. I leap forward at Harry - jaws extended as far as they can go.

Harry appears unafraid as he reaches behind his armchair and draws his sword. I am unable to react in time as he slashes my face with it. No matter - the wound heals in seconds.

"You really are predictable, Pete," Harry states blandly as he stands prepared for my next strike. I should not have come here - I should have made him come looking for me. In his father's house, there's no telling what kinds of trap Harry has set for me.

But I'm all too willing to spring them.

"As are you, old friend," I snarl, contemplating my next attack. Harry may be more cunning, but he will never overpower me in brute force. And that is my advantage. I hurl myself at Harry again - only to watch as he draws a Pumpkin Bomb. "NOOO!!"

Harry thrusts the small, orange orb into my mouth before taking cover. The explosive goes off - taking half of my face with it. But that's not the true threat. The bomb has caused the suit to catch fire. I scramble frantically to extinguish the flames before they cause some irrevocable damage. Once I have stopped the burning, my face reforms instantly.

"What's the matter, buddy?" Harry calls out condescendingly. "Can't stand the heat?"

"The heat's fine," I admit. "It's YOU that I can't handle!"

Firing a thick black web-line, I relieve Harry of his sword. Now seemingly unarmed, Harry is open to attack. I extend my arm like a web-line, slashing Harry with my sharp claws from a distance. As my arm retracts, a cruel smile overtakes my face as I watch him bleed.

"I don't even need this suit to kill you, Harry," I boast.

"Interesting...let's put your money where your mouth is!"

Harry reveals a tiny remote in his hand. Pressing one of the buttons, a shrill sonic vibration blasts me from somewhere in his apartment. I can feel the sonic energy tearing me apart. Withdrawing like a weak child, I make my way to the ledge of Harry's balcony. The pain still resonates within me as I leap downward. Finally, I am free - just in time to see Harry in pursuit in a modified Goblin Glider.

"Look at that! There is something that can kill the great Venom! Maybe that's why you don't like tangoing with The Human Torch...maybe that's why you killed Mr. Fantastic!" Harry rambles. I have begun to web-swing as he pursues cautiously. "After all, Reed Richards knew all about the symbiote's weaknesses. Maybe he tried to use a sonic weapon on you...isn't that right?"

"SHUT UP, WEAKLING!" I roar, doubling back to attack him. He's trying to dredge up painful memories of my encounter with the Fantastic Four. I really didn't mean to kill Reed. He was my friend, but--

You don't need friends, Peter. You have me.

I know! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--

Forget about everything, Peter. Love, peace, righteousness, justice - they're all inconsequential. Revenge and satisfaction are all that we need now.

Peter, these are the years when a man changes into the man he's going to be for the rest of his life. Just be careful who you change into.

Don't listen to him! You take advice from ME now!

This guy, Flash Thompson, he probably deserved what happened. But just because you can beat him up, doesn't give you the right to.

He was lying to you, Peter! He was trying to hold us back!

Remember: with great power comes great responsibility.

Uncle Ben was an idealistic fool! That's why he's dead! That's why you'll be dead if you don't finish Harry!

I...I can't do it. friend.

If you won't finish him, I WILL!


"DIE! DIE! DIE!" the sick twisted voice of the symbiote shrieks. I've lost all control of it - I've lost all control of myself. I...I...



Grabbing onto Harry, I shake him loose of his glider. Plummeting to the ground below, I watch Harry's petrified eyes as he realizes his inescapable fate. I maneuver my body so that he will serve as a cushion when we land. "Like father, like son."


"YES! I killed Daddy dearest way back when, and I'm going to finish the job tonight with you!" I promise.

Harry struggles to reach his belt. When he finally does, he flashes a special Pumpkin Bomb in front of my face.

"Then I'm taking you with me!" he shouts, pressing the button on top of the small device. "I was afraid that it might come to this, so I crafted a special Sonic Bomb!"

Sonic Bomb?! NO! GET RID OF IT! KILL HIM!!

I scratch at Harry's hands, trying desperately to free his grip of the weapon. But he will not budge. He stares intensely into my eyes - determined to finish this tonight. The Sonic Bomb begins to glow a bright blue as the sidewalk below comes closer and closer.

This is it. I take a deep breath as I prepare myself for the inevitable end. Pictures of Gwen and MJ flash through my mind. My heart is overwhelmed with grief by the sight of them. I've failed them. I've failed Uncle Ben. I've failed Harry and JJJ. I've failed everyone.

"Harry, I'm so--"


And like that, Peter was gone. Harry still collided fatally with the ground, and his Sonic Bomb still erupted loudly - shattering all the glass without a city block of the blast.

But Venom was nowhere to be seen. No one knew where he had gone, and - frankly - no one cared. This was his legacy in this world.

But elsewhere, a new adventure had begun...

Artemis Entreri calmly walked down the plush carpet towards the relaxed form of Pasha Giram as he sat on his finely carved throne. The audience chamber in the guild house was large and lavishly decorated. Giram did enjoy the finer things in life, and he was quick to let everyone know it.

On either side of Giram stood a large bodyguard wearing half-plate and wielding greatswords.
A half-dozen lightly armed soldiers of the Giram Guild paced the room keeping in line with Entreri, never taking their eyes off of him.

Entreri didn't even bat an eye in their direction as he strode up to stand only a dozen feet from Giram.

"I have heard the news", Giram stated, not bothering to begin with any pleasantries.
"The merchant was found murdered in his home two days ago. Well done, Entreri. You do fine work."

"The deed is done", stated Entreri, not bothering to acknowledge the compliment.
"Now I believe you owe me one-thousand pieces of gold."

"You would do well to watch your tone when addressing His Greatness", scolded one of the armored guards as he gripped his weapon tightly.
He was a young man, couldn't be a day past his twenty-first birthday. He obviously did not have fear of Entreri...which was not a good thing.

"And you would do well to watch your tone with me, boy", Entreri shot right back, his cold gaze sending the brash young man back to his place next to his master.

"There is no need for hostilities", stated Pasha Giram as he attempted to diffuse the situation.
Giram reached into the folds of his robes and produced a large bag. Giram gave the bag a shake, and the sound of coins jingling echoed throughout the entire chamber.
Reaching in the bag, Giram produced a gold coin and held it in his hand.

"One thousand gold", Giram stated as he placed the coin back into the bag.
"Well worth the price to hire the Realms' greatest assassin", smiled Giram as he closed the bag tightly.
With a flick of his wrist, Giram tossed the bag of gold towards Entreri. The bag sailed through the air and came crashing down to the carpeted floor, spilling it's contents out all over.

"What deviltry is this", demanded Giram as he rose from his seat, and his guards unsheathed their weapons and got into defensive positions.
The bag would have hit Entreri square in the chest, but, as the coin purse hung in the air, Artemis Entreri faded into nothingness.

And deviltry it was, for the greatest assassin in Faerûn was no longer in the Realms...

On the streets of Metropolis, the citizens screamed for their lives. Swarms of flying robots chased them down - firing Gatling guns and flamethrowers at the innocent pedestrians below. Knowing not what else to do, the people prayed for a savior.

High above the streets, their prayers would be answered.


I take to the skies to listen for where my help is needed. It doesn't take long, however, until the cries ring out. As high up as I am, I still wouldn't need my hearing abilities to hear the destruction. Right here, in the heart of Metropolis, I have a chance to perform a good deed. Racing to the root of the problem, my cape flapping in the wind behind me, I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

When I open them, I see robots attacking at random. They are harming civilians, destroying buildings, and all-around causing mayhem. They must be stopped. I fly up behind their formation before someone calls out, "SUPERMAN!"

The robot nearest to me turns to investigate the disturbance. As soon as it completes its 180-degree turn, it finds itself face-to-face with the new protector of Metropolis: me.

Pulling back with all of my strength, I unleash a devastating blow to the front of the robot. The sheer force - combined with my newfound strength - crushes the robot instantly. Its lifeless, shattered body falls to the street. I smirk a little as I watch the defeated hunk of metal collide with the concrete.

Immediately after, however, the rest of the pack turns to look at me. Suddenly, I'm outnumbered. Not a big problem, but it will make matters slightly more irritating. The all begin firing their Gatling guns and flamethrowers - to no avail. They soon learn that - thanks to the sun's yellow rays - nothing can penetrate my alien skin. Nevertheless, they don't let up in their assault.

Becoming tired of it, I unleash powerful rays of heat radiation from my eyes. The blasts easily tear through their metal hulls, singeing the delicate hardware inside. That eliminates quite of a few of them.

Those that remain appear frustrated - as frustrated as a machine can be - by my perseverance and power. I doubt that these were crafted to take on such a powerful adversary - especially one that cannot be harmed by their conventional weaponry.

I quickly wrap my arms around the nearest one and rocket into the sky. Something tells me that they weren't designed to withstand atmospheric travel either. My suspicions are confirmed as soon as we begin to travel into the stratosphere. The robot merely begins to fall apart and malfunction. Once I see its red "eye" darken, I release the lifeless device and allow it to glide back to reality - gaining speed thanks to gravity.

Returning to the steel canyons of Metropolis, I engage the remaining robots. They must be desperate to find a way to stop me by now. More power to them, I say, as no one else has found that way yet. And I highly doubt a small group of technological disasters is going to be the first.

I grab two robots and slam them into one another, creating metal pancakes. Tiny pieces of steel debris fly everywhere as I watch their parts explode into the air like little firecrackers. Grabbing onto two more, I begin to spin in a circle - moving at superhuman speeds. The sheer wind resistance is enough to cause them to fall apart, but I'm not finished yet. Once I've reached my maximum speed, I simply release the robots. Their bodies fly like baseballs hit off of Babe Ruth's bat. They both collide with buildings - erupting on impact. I probably shouldn't have added to the destruction, but in the long run, it will put an end to it altogether.

I am now face-to-face with the final robot. It has witnessed me pick apart the others in a variety of ways. Surely, its processor must be scrambling to predict my next move. I fly in closer to position myself for the assault. The robot frantically fires its Gatling gun. As with before, the attack does little to slow me down. Suddenly, there is a clicking noise as the Gatling gun runs out of ammunition.

If this robot were a person, I could picture its eyes widening right now.

Pulling my arm back again, I swing forcefully - stopping my hand inches from the robot's "face." It merely stares at me, wondering why I halted my crushing blow. I smirk as I flick the robot with enough force to send it flying across the city. I watch as it becomes little more than a black speck racing across the horizon.

Too easy.

"WAY TO GO, SUPERMAN!" the man from before calls out. I descend to the ground to check on the citizens. They crowd around me to congratulate me - and get a look at me - but none of them get too close. I'm still relatively new to Metropolis - both as Clark Kent and Superman - and thus, there is still a wariness around me, despite the deeds I have performed in my short time here.

I look to see a familiar face pushing through the crowds. This is one person who is not afraid to approach me. I flash a big smile as the beautiful features of Lois Lane come into view. "Superman, can the Planet get a quote?" she asks, her mind always on work. Perhaps that is why she is so damn good at her job.

I want so badly to pick her up and fly her away - giving her that interview she so badly desires. The more time I can spend alone with her, the better. However, I owe it to a friend to help him out.

"If the Planet wants an interview, Miss Lane," I begin, "Get me Jimmy Olsen."

Her jaw drops at the request. I smile broadly at her shock. I can picture Jimmy's face now when he hears about this. Frankly, I want to be there when it happens. So I begin to walk away, preparing to return to the Daily Planet Building as Clark Kent.

Before I leave, however, I take a look at the remains of one of the robots. Scanning it up and down, I magnify one spot. Emblazoned on the metal - though no one other than me could see it - is a logo which I have come to be all-too-familiar with.

'LuthorCorp," I mutter under my breath. Seeing Jimmy will have to wait - Superman has another errand to run.
Lex is playing chess when I enter his office in City Hall. He doesn't hear or see me come in. Then again, most normal people wouldn't.

"You mind explaining something to me, Luthor?" I call out from the shadows. Lex is slightly startled, but he manages to play it off. He's not a man to show his hand. I step into the light - revealing the 'S' on my chest.

"Why is it that the robots which attacked today were created by LuthorCorp?"

Lex leans back in his chair and puts on a shocked face. I'm not buying it, but he responds in his most innocent tone, "There must be some mistake, Superman. I assure you - I would take no part in such a brutal, unprovoked attack."

I scoff at him. "The rest of Metropolis may buy into your lies, Lex, but I won't," I promise. "I'm very good at...seeing through things - and your facade is hardly believable to the naked eye alone."

Lex never loses his cool. It would be admirable - if his intentions weren't so soiled. "I wish I knew what I had done to turn your opinion on me," he replies, attempting to be sincere. "But it hurts me that you make these bold accusations against my character."

"I'm not an idiot, Lex," I shoot back dully. "Your plans are painfully predictable. Let me guess: you coordinate an attack on Metropolis so that Mayor Luthor can sweep in with his money? Suddenly, you look like the big hero."

"That's utterly outrageous - although I do quite like your idea of paying reparations."

That slime - his stupidity act is irritating.

"Let's get one thing straight, Luthor - I don't like you. So don't act like we're friends," I warn with fists clenched.

Lex sits up in his chair and straightens his suit. "Very well then. It's a shame though, Superman. I was hoping that we could forge a powerful alliance for the good of Metropolis."

"There's one problem with your plan. You don't care about the good of Metropolis - you only care about the good of Lex Luthor."

Lex breaks eye contact and stares off into space. After a moment, a smile creeps onto his lips. He's finally tired of conversing with me. He asks, malignancy ringing in his tone, "Now, now...breaking and entering? Trespassing? Surely these aren't the kinds of deeds that a Superman should be performing." He stares at me with a glimmer in his eye. His smile is laced with self-satisfaction.

I grimace. "You think this is some game, Luthor?" I ask, repressing the spite in my voice. "You think human life is some pawn that you can use for the betterment of yourself?"

I turn to leave through the window that I entered in. Peering over my shoulder, I warn, "I'm watching you, Lex."


Lex is silent after Superman leaves. Finally, he looks down at his chessboard.

"You're right about one thing, Superman," Lex announces aloud. "It is a game."

He picks up a chess piece and moves it.

"And in my game..."

He moves yet another piece.

"'s mind over matter."

Lex leans back and surveys the board. After a few moments of silence, he picks up the queen and moves it.

Placing the piece down gently, Lex announces to himself, "Checkmate."
After Jimmy got his big interview with Superman, he suddenly earned the respect of the newsroom. As he walked in on the day after the interview was published, he was greeted with congratulations and kind words. I sit back and smile from my desk. As much as I would have enjoyed Lois's company, I did a good thing for Jimmy. Besides, Lois is engaged to Lex Luthor - that dirtbag. What she sees in him, I'll never know.

"Hey, CK!" Jimmy calls out gleefully as he passes my desk. I merely nod and hold up a hand to acknowledge him.

After Jimmy has walked by, Lois approaches my desk. She's not even looking at me when she asks, "Do you believe that, Smallville? Superman wanted to do an interview with him - not me! I swear, this will be the first and only time that Olsen will put-scoop me."

"Well, maybe you should--"

"I just don't get it!" Lois interrupts. "Why didn't Superman want to talk to me? Is there something unattractive about me?"

I start to blush as I respond, "Believe me, Lois. There's noth--"

"Don't answer that," she adds quickly. I wish I had known that my decision would bother her this much. Although, I must admit - she's actually really cute when she's raving. "Well, I guess it could be worse. He could have asked for you, Smallville." Lois shoots me a smile and a wink. Wow, a sign of friendliness from Lois - maybe I'm actually rubbing off on her. "I'll catch you around, Smallville."

As Lois starts to walk away, I clear my throat before asking feebly, "Um...Lois?"

She turns to face me.

"I was wondering if...I don't know...maybe you wanted to grab a coffee some time?" I ask, rubbing the back of my neck nervously whilst avoiding eye contact.

Lois flashes her unreasonably large diamond before my eyes. "Forgetting that I'm a taken woman? Besides, we're practically from different planets," she explains.

Well, it was worth a shot.

Suddenly, Lois squints at me. She stares in silence for a few moments before stating, "Wow, you really remind me of someone."

My eyes got really wide, and my skin went pale. Oh no - has she caught on to me?

"W-who?" I stutter anxiously.

"I...I don't know," she responds in frustration. After a few more seconds of squinting, Lois finally shrugs it off. "Hey, don't get down on yourself, Clark. There's a girl out there for you - I'm just not her."

And with that, Lois walks away. Wait...did she call me 'Clark?'

"Kent? KENT!"

I suddenly snap back to reality. I see the red face of Perry White barking at me.

"Yes, Chief?"

"I don't pay you to sit there at your desk with that goofy grin on your face!"

"Won't happen again, Chief," I promise. And so, I get up, grab my coat, and head out the door - ready to face anything the world has to offer.


"Let's run through the plan one more time."

Kitty - one of Lex's undercover lackeys (and one-time love interest) - sighs obnoxiously. "I'm not stupid, Lex!"

"That's arguable," Lex replies dryly.

"Fine!" Kitty whines in much the same way that a little girl would. "I scream and cry out to attract Big Blue. At which point, you pop up with your...what is it again?"

Lex smiles a smile filled with malicious glee. He draws a small lead box from his jacket pocket. "Oh, this? Why, it's just a little something that LuthorCorp whipped up."

Kitty stares in confusion. Lex hated having to explain everything to her.

"It's a radioactive isotope - based mostly off of the element Krypton. So far as we know, it has no negative effects on humans," Lex explains. "But if our research is correct, this should be like poison to Metropolis's protector."

"Lex, why do you want to get rid of Superman?"

"First, he's the only person in this city of dolts that's smart enough to catch onto my plans - and he's powerful enough to derail them and expose me."

Lex opens the lead box and examines the glowing green material inside. His eyes glimmer like a kid in a candy store.

"Second - and perhaps more importantly - he looks down on I'm a simpleton or something. NO ONE gets that right."

Lex slams the box closed and places it back into his pocket.

"Take your position."


I was out flying just to clear my head. I've found that flying is incredibly therapeutic. Anyway, while I'm reliving the past hour's moments in my head, I hear cries for help.

Racing into action, I see a shady-looking girl lying in the middle of the street. I'm being a little cautious about this - something doesn't seem right here.


She continues to cry, but they are the most fake tears I've ever heard. What, exactly, is going on here?

"Hello, Superman," I hear the cool voice of Lex Luthor call out. I turn to see him emerging from the shadows - a small box in his hands. Before I can say anything, he opens the lid.

For the first second, there is nothing but excruciating pain. Then, there's nothing.


Lex watches as Superman literally vanishes before his eyes. Lex stands completely still - the radioactive isotope still radiating in the street.

"Was it supposed to do that, Lex?" Kitty asks.

"I don't think so..."
Swift and Powerful, Monarch of the Oceans!

Part I: Bloodline

Orin had been the Monarch of the Deep for a while now, and had already grown tired of it. The joy of sinking ships full of men, tired and aching to get home from the many wars of today could not even bring him delight. Yet still the world had not known him for his greatness. He is Aquaman! The son of Poseidon and Thetis! The son who overthrew Poseidon!

So why does the world still not know his name? They will forever remember his fathers...but not his? Zeus had sworn war against Orin, but he fears little. Zeus may be King of the Gods, but he is still just that, a God. And Orin has already disposed of One God. So how can he keep his name remember forever? What is stopping him from--

He finally knows why. His pig of a father, has many children, and through this, has many ties of lineage. He is but a fish amongst a school! Clearly this must be why his name is not known throughout the oceans.

"Triton, Pegasus, Chrysaor, Areion, Polyphemus, Otos, Ephialtes, Neleus, Pelias, Nausithoos, Naupilos, Euadne, Orion, Theseus...all my brothers and sisters. Their presence on this Earth taints my very own. I must slay them all. They are insignificant...yes."


A thunderbolt jolts down from the sky on the rocks where Orin stands, and he looks up towards the clouds. The crack of sound as loud as thunder could be no other God's voice but Zeus'.

"Zeus! You seek to stop me, is that it? Hmmm? Uncle?"

"You will not lay a hand on your brothers and sisters, Orin! Enough blood has been spilled already!"

"Yes. Enough to fill the entire Atlantic Ocean. Ah, but there are many oceans, Uncle."

Another thunderbolt strikes the rocks, but Orin does not falter or move away in fear. He merely continues to look up at the clouds, smiling. Zeus is going to have to do a lot more than act 'all High Almighty' to stop Orin from his destiny. Greatness is in his blood. He shall have it no matter what, one way or another.
Swift and Powerful, Monarch of the Oceans!

Part II: Bloodline

The clouds all but disappeared and Orin could no longer hear the thundering voice of the Almighty Zeus tower over him. A warning to try to scare his nephew was clearly what Zeus must have intended. As if it makes any difference. He had already felt the tender neck of his father wrapped tightly around his firm hands, why should he worry a threat from another God.

"Pfft, King of the Gods..."

Orin dives into the ocean, and sets out on his newfound journey. His search for Triton would prove to be most easy. His brother, much like his father, was a pig who mated with many creatures of the world. Surely all he had to do was listen to the ****ish wailing of a Sea Nymph to find his brother Triton.

Such a waste to spend never-ending life. Such a waste, that Orin was jealous he could not have it. Aside from ascension to the Crown of the Ocean, he assumed when he had slained his father, he would take his Godhood as well. But it seems even in Death, Poseidon was able to keep that way from Orin. But no matter, he would make himself a God. He will slay all of his kin--brothers and sisters who lurk throughout the world--and become like the famous Heracles or Perseus...known throughout the world and for all time. That will be the kind of immortality Orin shall receive.

Who day he may even snatch Zeus' own Crown.

"After all, let's face it...the time of the Gods are over. Just as they overthrew the Titans and assumed power, so shall I when the time is right."

Orin smirks as he blends in the water, becoming one with it, and searches for his prey. The beauty of it, is that like his father, Triton would not even see it coming. Orin can already picture it; the joyous act he is about to commit. As he thinks about the various ways he could kill him, his mouth only widens with glee at the thought of it. Should he simply kill him from within? He could simply expand the very water he takes in and inhales as he breathes, and watch up close and personal as he implodes. Should he even be silent about it? Why not go with the full approach? He had already enjoyed the sneaky and unexpected death of his father. Perhaps he should kill each of his siblings in different manners to make things less repetitive?

Oh...he is starting to like this new idea. Yes...this will definitely make things much more interesting.
Swift and Powerful, Monarch of the Oceans!

Part III: Bloodline

After searching the vast ocean, Orin had finally come upon his brother Triton. And just as he had suspected, he was conversing with a harlot of a sea nymph. She giggles at something funny Triton apparently had said, and Triton smiles at his charming ways. Orin smiles too, for he will be able to slay two lives this tide. Orin, one with the water, lurks closer to the two lovers.

"Oh, but...Is it true, Triton? Has Poseidon truly been slain?"

"Aye. By none other than my bloodlusting, hungry devil of a brother. His hate knows no bounds just as his jealousy. The mortal fool even perhaps sought to snatch my father's godhood. Ha! That defeat, while also a victory, perhaps will teach my ill-minded brethren."

"But, what if he comes for you?"

"Hmm? Oh, hush! He got lucky! My father must've not have even suspected it! He hold some foolish belief that were was some good in him. And you need not worry, I'll protect you from--"

"You're right, father didn't suspect a thing, Triton. Just as you do not know."


The sea nymph swims away in fright, and Orin sighs; there goes his two for one bloodbath. Oh well, his true target still remains. And to his amazement, it seems his godling of a brother wishes to make a stand.

"Show yourself, Orin! Show yourself...and I will avenge our father's death for your betrayal! Coward!"

"Betrayal? Was I not the one betrayed, brother? Hmm? Poseidon's throne is to be mine and mine alone. But I could not claim it until his time was done. And when would that be, brother, hmm? When I am long and dead for I dwell in a mortal body?"

Triton turns to where the voice of his twisted brother Orin reigns, and Orin makes himself whole and visible.

"So I merely sped up the process."

"You've done so much more than that, brother."

"Have I now?"

"Yes. You have the entire Council of the Gods to answer to. I hope you enjoyed your few days of power and conquest, for I plan to bring you to them myself."

"HA! You? A godling? I killed a GOD! What makes you think that a lesser son such as yourself can do any better?"

Triton gets into a battle stance, and Orin chuckles under his breath, and whips his hair back and crosses his arms.

"Go on, brother. Make the first move. Or shall I gain the honor of serving first blood?"

Orin smiles with glee, and Triton charges at him with all his might. Orin's laugh is manical as it is distorting to the ear. Triton swims right through him, as his brother becomes as water, never making a move.

"You are so out of your league, brother. Oh, if a godling such as yourself is so easy, I can only but smile at the thought of how I will dispose of the rest of our wretched family."

Orin solidifies again, and charges at his brother. Triton looks Death in the eye for but a moment, when a bright flash fills the ocean. The light, blinding and luminous, lasts for but a few seconds. And when the flash is all but just about gone, Triton looks before him, his brother no where to be seen.
Five humanoid shapes suddenly appeared in the white hot void. They materialized from the nothingness, seemingly standing on air as there was no discernable anything in the barren nexus.

The five heroes stood still in a state of shock at their sudden departure from their homeworld and reappearance in this formless dimension. But these were no ordinary heroes, which is why they were Chosen.

It only took a few seconds for them to gain their composure, but before anyone could say anything to each other, a voice cried out from all around them.

"Greetings, mortals."

A human-like figure dressed in white shining robes appeared before the five captured souls, his hands reaching out wide to his sides.
His face could not be seen under the large hood of the robes. Only a set human lips were discernable. In truth, it was because that was all the entity allowed them to see.

"Do not be alarmed. You aren't in any danger. You may call me Chronos. I am the protector of the multiverse. I apologize for the kidnapping as it were, but it was a necessary evil."

"You five are the greatest heroes your world has to offer. Your skills and powers are needed for the ultimate battle. A dark force threatens all of existence...for all realities. And I have brought you all here to aid me in preventing this darkness from succeeding."

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