The "Nuff Said" Marvel Universe RPG

Venice, Italy

“Oh Bruce, it’s beautiful.”

“Only the best for you dear. I promised you a European honeymoon, and here it is. It just took a little longer than expected.”

Betty Ross-Banner turned around in her seat and kissed her husband on the lips as their boat floated gently down the water avenue.

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart. I knew what I was getting into, and I’ve supported you all the way, and I always will.”

“Yes, you have. Without you, I don’t know if I could have made it thins long.”


Betty nuzzled her head in Bruce’s shoulder.

“Just promise me one thing?”

“Anything.”

“Get out of the bed and lay on the ground.”

“What?”

***

“I said out of the bed and on the ground!”

Bruce found himself ripped from his slumber buy a powerful set of hands tearing him from his small cot and throwing him onto the hard wooden floor. It took another moment to shake the dream from his head, but when his thoughts cleared he realized his small shack was filled with close to a dozen men, some in traditional Arab garb, and a select few in sleek high tech jumpsuits with mirror-visored helmets. All held automatic weapons, pointed directly at the stunned scientist.

“Who are you, American? Military? C.I.A.? S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Nobody. I’m here by myself. This is my home.”

“Spoiled Western pig, you expect us to believe you would give up the indulgences of America to live in the harsh desert? We are not stupid men.”

Bruce felt his heartbeat increasing. At that moment, he disagreed with the previous statement.

“Talk, or your blood will deliver our message to whoever you work for.”

“I told you, I work for myself. I only wish to help those I can whenever…”

The lead man pressed his gun to Bruce’s temple.

“You’re making a terrible mistake.”

“And you have made your last.”

Bruce threw his hands up just as the muzzle flashed. His body slumped to the floor as the bullet exited the barrel, motionless.

“He will be of no more trouble. We must move quickly, lest any of his compatriots be stationed near…what are you swine looking at?”

The rest of the men stood rigid, fear etched in the eyes of those without the helmet. Slowly, their leader turned to see the skinny man he had just shot in the head stir on the floor.

“I told you, you didn’t want to do that…”

“What madness…” he aimed his gun again. This time, however, the American’s hand wrapped around the barrel.

Only it was no longer his hand. It was large and monstrous and…green…

1814299-hulkv2635_cov.jpg


The barrel of the gun wrinkled like an aluminum can in the creatures hand as he came to his feet, towering over the group. Muscles and skin twisted and morphed as the tiny man grew into something more, something truly terrifying. As the creature finally completed his new form, he threw something on the ground he had been holding in his other hand.

The bullet the had been meant for his head.

“Tiny men wake Hulk up.”

The Hulk ripped the crumpled gun from his former interrogators hand and tossed it aside.

“Hulk need beauty sleep. When Hulk no get sleep…”

2274250-40.jpg


He grabbed the first man by the neck, picking him up to eye level, nostrils flaring as their faces touched.

“HULK SMASH!”
 
Gritting his teeth, Cap tossed his shield through the air. The metallic disc cut through the air, bouncing off the skulls of two Shockers, clipping one Shocker in the throat, and finally striking one of the criminal's in the shins. The shield bounced away further into the factory.

Unprotected, Steve leaped into the air, twirling to avoid the vibro-blasts. He landed right in front of a Shocker and quickly grabbed his wrist, spinning him into the air and ripping the gauntlets from his hands. Cap tossed one of the gauntlets away, sliding the other on to his right wrist. He spun around, opening fire two Shockers that were rushing towards him.

VVVVVVMMMMMM!

The blast knocked the two Shockers off their feet. They flew through the air before they smacked hard against the concrete floor. "Gimme a sit-rep, Spidey," Steve said, clotheslining a Black Spectre with his forearm. "How are you doing?"
"Been worse," I grunt as I pull myself out of the spider-sized dent in the turbine. I'm greeted by a pair of Shockers, just waiting to open fire on me. "Been better, but been worse."

Seeing that I'm on my feet, the two Shockers fire at me simultaneously. Fortunately, that means I only have to dodge once. As I leap into the air, their vibro-blasts pummel the dented turbine. Some of the energy is redirected, causing a mild shockwave which knocks both Shockers off-balance. I take the opportunity to strike.

Landing on the shoulders of one of the two Shockers, I wrap my legs around his neck. He tries punching me in leg, but I won't budge. "Sir, please don't attempt to remove your restraints until the ride has come to a complete stop!" I lean forward and then sharply jerk back. The momentum of my body spins me into a back-flip and takes the Shocker along with me. I release him halfway through, throwing his body across the factory against a steel support beam.

No rest for the weary, though, as the second Shocker has regained his bearings and is now coming after me. I'm forced to leap into the air and spread my legs to dodge a vibro-blast. When I land, I throw myself into a front handspring. I finish by planting my heels against the Shocker's chest in a dropkick. He's knocked over backwards. I step on his wrists and remove the gauntlets, callously tossing them aside.

"This is normally the part where I web your limbs to the floor, and maybe give you a wedgie, but no webs so..." I punch him in the head to knock him out. Looking around and seeing that everyone else in the factory is preoccupied, I roll the Shocker's unconscious body over and give him the hardest wedgie I can muster - which, with spider-strength, is quite hard. "Heh. Gotta love the classics."
 
No rest for the weary, though, as the second Shocker has regained his bearings and is now coming after me. I'm forced to leap into the air and spread my legs to dodge a vibro-blast. When I land, I throw myself into a front handspring. I finish by planting my heels against the Shocker's chest in a dropkick. He's knocked over backwards. I step on his wrists and remove the gauntlets, callously tossing them aside.

"This is normally the part where I web your limbs to the floor, and maybe give you a wedgie, but no webs so..." I punch him in the head to knock him out. Looking around and seeing that everyone else in the factory is preoccupied, I roll the Shocker's unconscious body over and give him the hardest wedgie I can muster - which, with spider-strength, is quite hard. "Heh. Gotta love the classics."

Now, with only two Shockers left, Steve spun to face them. He pressed the button on the gauntlet. There was only a dry click when he pressed it.

"Shoddy workmanship," he said, jumping away as two vibro-blast tore through the air. He ripped the gauntlet from his hands and jumped into the air just as a familiar slicing sound could be heard. Cap's shield bounced off the floor and up towards him. He grabbed the shield in mid-jump, twisting his body and blocking the two Shocker's blasts. He landed just in front of the two Shockers, they both aimed and let loose. The gauntlets dry fired. Clicking several times instead of firing.

"See what I mean?" Cap asked, slamming his shield into the two men. The shield sending them flying and tumbling to the ground. "No respect for your craft."

Breathing heavily, Steve and Spider-Man stood around the hurt, dazed, and unconscious Shockers that were piled all around him. Out the corner of his eye, Cap saw two SHIELD agents that were rushing over to the two heroes.

"Agent 13 sent us," one of the agents said. "For backup."

"Too little, too late. I appreciate the sentiment, though. What's the status on the raid? Where are we needed?"

"Nowhere. The raid is over, we got all the Black Spectres, save for two that are being hunted down right now."

"Good," Steve said, slipping his shield on to his back. "Disarm these men and take them into custody."

The two SHIELD agents nodded and started to go to work while Cap and Spider-Man walked through the factory. "Looks like the situation is under control here. Thanks for tagging along today. I appreciate the help."
 
"Good," Steve said, slipping his shield on to his back. "Disarm these men and take them into custody."

The two SHIELD agents nodded and started to go to work while Cap and Spider-Man walked through the factory. "Looks like the situation is under control here. Thanks for tagging along today. I appreciate the help."
"Glad I could be of service," I reply earnestly. I can't help but catch myself staring at Cap. Some days, it's just hard to believe that I've stood alongside living legends like the man right next to me. I always did like Cap, too. Maybe because he treats me with respect - something I'm seriously not used to. "And if someone ever starts mass producing your enemies, I'd be more than happy to lend a hand."

Cap chuckles. "I'll keep that in mind."

I fiddle with my webshooters, pulling out the empty cartridges and shaking them just to make sure they're truly cooked. Getting home without them is going to be a real pain, but it's not like I can just ask Cap to drop me off at my apartment - much as I would like to take another ride in the flying car. On the bright side, I got some great snapshots of Spider-Man and Captain America stopping a bank robbery together, which should be enough to get an advance from Jolly Jonah so I can cook up a new batch of web fluid.

"Now listen, Cap," I say as we approach the broken window to the factory, "I've given a lot of thought to your offer to join the Avengers..."

"I never off--"

"And I just don't feel it's the right career move for me right now," I finish. I step into the empty window frame.

"Son?"

I stop and turn, facing the Super-Soldier once more.

"Don't joke. The Avengers really could use someone resourceful like you by their side."

I must admit. I didn't see that coming. I was just playing around, seeing how Captain America would react. Spider-Man, an Avenger? Jonah would blow a gasket. It'd almost be worth it to join just to see the look on his face. "Well, I better get going. I've got my day job in the morning."

Cap extends his hand. Smiling beneath my mask, I reach out and shake it. This has to be one of my classier team-ups, but then again Captain America is always top class. Before it gets too late, I leap out into the night. Cap and his team can handle cleanup here. For me? My bed is calling. It's been a good day.

042-1.jpg

 
“Where is Aleem? He should have eliminated the objective by now.”

“I’ve had no communication with his team for the past fifteen minutes. The mountains may be causing interference given the location of the target.”

“You should have never sent him. You know how volatile he can…”

“General! General!”

The conference deep within the cavernous compound was suddenly interrupted by the frantic cries of one of the armored members of the hunt team.

“What is the meaning of this interruption? Where is the rest of your team?”

“We were attacked. The man you sent us to eliminate, he was not what he seemed. He was some kind of, of monster. An advanced human specimen or mutant.”

A look of angered concern flashed across the man sitting at the head of the pieced together conference table.

“First America’s prized super soldier invades one of our camps, and now you speak of more super humans? They must know more about our bio-force enhancements than we thought. Mobilize our men. Clear everything and can and move it to the secondary site.”

Gunfire suddenly erupted in the tunnel outside followed quickly by several screams as the cave roof shook overhead raining rock and dirt down onto the group assembled below seconds before the main wall exploded inward.

hulk24020.jpg


“Puny man run away and hide. Hulk good at seeking.”

The Hulk grabbed the armored soldier and slammed him into the ground.

“Tiny men being bad. Hulk stop bad men.”

“SHOOT HIM!”

Whatever men remained standing opened fire on The Hulk. The green behemoth simply stood still as the bullets bounced harmlessly off his chest and to the ground.

“That tickled.”

The Hulk outstretched his arms and swung them violently forward, knocking his attackers to the ground with an earth shattering thunderclap.

“HULK NO LIKE BEING TICKLED!”

-

The deepest part of the cavern complex was massive. Stretching out as far as two football fields and towering nearly twelve feet tall, it housed an arsenal capable of taking out a small city. The Hulk stood at the entrance taking in the scene before him.

“Hulk heard men talk about Flag Man. Men planning something bad.”

The Hulk cracked his knuckles.

-

“I don’t hear anything, soldier. Are you sure it was gunfire?”

“Positive sir. It was faint, possibly underground, but I know it came from this area.”

“OK, everybody fan out. We’re looking for possible cave entrances to enemy camps. Check every nook and crevice, and be on highest alert. Watch your backs…”

KRA-KA-BOOOOOOM

The small army patrol was thrown to the ground as the mountaintop in front of the blew skyward in a brilliant flash of bright orange and red. The fireball mushroomed skyward and lit up the desert as clear as day. Debris rained down all around them as they dove for covered from cascading boulders and shrapnel.

"What the hell was that? Volcanic eruption?”

“Colonel! There’s someone up there.” The private pointed to a figure silhouetted against the still rising flames.

“Hulk strongest there is! No one can stop Hulk!”

“Did he just say Hulk?”

“Contact base. Get the General on the line ASAP.”
 
rpg5.png




Harlem


"Stop! Stop making me run!"

Huffing and puffing, I run across the rooftop after the three thieves. These three young men pulled an armed robbery on a check cashing place five minutes ago. This time was their fourth time hitting up the place. Danny and I were hired yesterday to do security for the place, keep an eye out in case the robbers came back.

Cut to now.

I leap across the gap between buildings chasing after the thieves. One of them pulls out his piece and fires at me. The bullet misses wide, not even coming close to hitting me. Still, the gall of this kid to shoot at me pisses me off big time.

"Alright, son, now you asked for it!"

Yelling, I speed up and start to close the gap between us. They hit a fire escape and start to go down it. I'm close behind when Danny jumps on to the fire escape from the building next to it. The three robber try to turn their weapons on him, but he makes mince meat out of them in just two seconds flat. All three are on the fire escape steps, moaning and groaning.

"Thanks... for the help," I say, putting my hand on my knees and catching my breath. "I... would have... caught them."

"Before or after the new year?"

I hold my left hand up and show Danny my middle finger. He smiles and turns away, pulling his cellphone from his sleeve.

"Yeah... yeah... Alright. We're on the way."

Danny hangs up and slips his phone back into his sleeve.

"That was Gladys. Someone's in the office waiting for us."
 
SABanner.png




The Lighthouse
2,000 Miles Above Earth


j5b9f7.jpg


"Alright, we have a mission," Steve said to the three costumed heroes gathered around the conference room table. "It's a smaller mission, so it's jut the four of us."

"Good," Valkyrie said, her arms crossed. "After our last encounter, I think it's best that I spend time away from Hawkeye. For his sake."

The screen behind Steve lit up, showing profile pictures of a dozen men. "These twelve men are the board of directors for Montgomery Energy Solutions, a Fortune 500 company based out of Madripoor. MES, in addition to being one of the world's biggest petroleum suppliers, is also one of the top revenue streams for HYDRA."

"We're kicking heads in?" Eric O'Grady, Ant-Man, asked.

"We're going the other way."

Steve pressed the remote button in his hands. One by one, red slashes went over the pictures of the twelve men, until only one was without a slash. "Over the past three months, eleven of these men have died." The screen behind him changed, showing crime scene pictures of dead bodies. "Murdered by unknown assailants who are either killed in the ensuing struggle, or commit suicide shortly after the murder.."

"Hmm," Black Widow said, looking at the photos. "Something doesn't add up. It's too sloppy, too unprofessional. These men were amateurs."

"We don't know. Any secrets they had they took to the grave. Well, the only man left is Franklin Evans, a British citizen and MES' chief financial officer. Two days ago, he reached out to MI:13. For protection from the assassin, he's willing to tell us everything about MES, HYDRA, and their activities. Evans is currently at his home in London. SHIELD and MI:13 are monitoring him. While they're waiting, we're going proactive and tracking the assassin down. Let's go."

The four heroes stood and walked towards the teleport pad. In a bright flash of green light, they disappeared from the Lighthouse.


*****


London


Roger Purefoy turned the keys and unlocked the door to his flat. In his right hand was a plastic bag filled with groceries. He walked through the small apartment that he called home, placing the groceries on the kitchen counter before walking into his living room.

"Mister Purefoy,"a voice with a soft southern accent said from the chair in the living room, his face hidden in shadows. Roger started to suddenly back up away from the intruder. "Robert's Rules of Order," the man said. Purefoy stopped in his tracks, his eyes glazed over and his jaw slack. The intruder stood and walked towards Purefoy. His face came into view, revealing a blond man with a battle-hardened face.

"Time for us to go to work."
 
The Pentagon
Arlington, Virginia
The Office of General Thaddeus “Thunderbolt” Ross


“General Ross, we had an urgent transmission from one of our squadrons in the Afghan/Pakistan region. One of their patrol forces responded to a possible skirmish in a nearby mountain range. The patrol is reporting that an entire terrorist cell along with its base was destroyed by, well sir, they say it was The Hulk.”

General Ross glared up from his paperwork, gnawing on a half smoked cigar.

“Is this someone’s idea of a practical joke, son?”

“No sir, not at all. It appears someone was able to capture an image confirming the identity.”

The young officer placed a grainy, green and black night vision photo on Ross’s desk. The figure in the middle was black, silhouetted against what was clearing a very large burning structure behind him. While no features were distinguishable, it was clearly the Hulk in the picture.

“I want a Hulbuster force mobilized immediately. I want to be on the ground at ground zero by daybreak tomorrow.”

-

“This ‘Hulk’ creature. I have heard of him. An American scientist, considered by many a criminal in his country. This may not be all bad. Perhaps, if it were to leak to the media outlets that American military forces were using their superhuman monsters in the war effort, employing criminals to do the dirty work.”

“That is not all sir.”

The lone survivor of the Hulk’s attack placed several small test tubes and vials in front of his superior.

“After the monster and the American forces had left, I was able to collect several, albeit small, skin and blood samples from the beast. I believe these could be tremendous assets to our bio-force experiments.”

There was a moment of thoughtful silence.

“Begin analysis immediately.”

-

Bruce hopped out of the bed of the beat up pick-up truck, somewhere near the Iran-Turkey border. He pulled a few crumpled bills from the pants he had managed to sneak back and pick up from his hut, and gave them to the driver.

“Super Soldier. Bio-Force enhancements.” Bruce had been repeating the phrases to himself the entire trip out of the battle zone. They were the two biggest things he remembered the Hulk hearing. The Super Soldier was pretty clear. But Bio-Force? It could mean nothing good. And the best course of action he could come up with was to get back home and find the Super Soldier.
 
DOCTOR DOOM

THE CLONE SAGA, PART I

South Bronx
New York City, USA

Warren Stacy skimmed through the latest Daily Bugle as he sipped his bitter, watery coffee. Apparently, Spider-Man had assisted the Vulture in attacking a high school in Queens. He knew better than to believe the sensationalistic “journalism” of the Bugle but seeing the wall-crawler’s name besmirched on the front page of a best-selling newspaper brought the old man a hint of satisfaction.

As Warren set the paper down on his table, he caught a glimpse of the twisted flesh on his wrist peeking out from under his coat’s sleeve. Warren pulled the sleeve back to get a better look at the scarred tissue. It had grown since yesterday. His time was almost up.

CRASH

A green and silver automaton came bursting through the window of his meager apartment. Warren leapt out of his chair and darted towards the front door but was quickly brought to the ground after a metallic claw dug into left shoulder. Warren peaked over his shoulder to see the claw attached to a taut cable coming from the robot’s open “wrist”. The cable began to retract, dragging a helpless Warren to the machine. Warren flailed and tugged at the claw, desperately trying to dislodge it but its grip only tightened as it dug deeper into his flesh.

Fully retracted, the claw had returned to the robot’s wrist. The machine lifted Warren up to its “eye” level and a sensor on in the center of its head began blinking.

* * *
Castle Doom
Doomstadt, Latveria

“Unit Seven: Run scan,” I ordered. The computer console before me provided live feeds of the onboard cameras built into the Hunter units scattered throughout New York and allowed me to issue orders directly to the machines. I commanded from the safety of my laboratory, sitting at the center of a recently etched protective magic circle.

"Scan indicates that subject’s genetic structure is perfect match of Dr. Miles Warren," the Hunter responded.

“Check vitals.”

"…Along with tissue damage sustained during subject's capture, vitals scan also indicates rapid cellular deterioration. Subject’s estimated life expectancy is eighty-four days."

Another duplicate.

“Terminate subject.”

The monitor displayed a metallic claw pressing up against the forehead of the panicked, glassy-eyed Warren Stacy. A thin beam of energy quickly fired out of the Hunter unit’s palm and through the Stacy’s skull, bringing an early end to the clone’s already short life.

This search was beginning to frustrate me. This marked the sixth clone located and terminated within the last three hours. Some were perfect matches of the original Warren—all living under aliases and scattered throughout New York City. Others featured the self-inflected genetic augmentation the scientist used to turn himself into a monster. Those clones hid in more isolated areas—abandoned buildings, subway tunnels. Two duplicates nearly fooled me—they apparently possessed no signs of the telltale clone degeneration that plagued Warren’s imperfect doppelgangers. But they lacked something that only the original Warren would posses.

I will concede that the crazed geneticist had done an excellent job of hiding his true self. But he would be found soon enough. No one can elude Doom forever.

* * *

Manhattan
New York City, USA

A lean figure covered in fine green fur and bearing huge, pointed ears on its head nimbly dodged an onslaught of energy blasts in the rancid sewers of lower Manhattan. He somersaulted over one blast , bounced off of a grimy wall, and lunged at his mechanical attacker. He snarled as he slashed at the machine with a powerful swipe of a clawed, human-like hand. The attack, however, did little more than leave minor scratches on the machine’s outer casing. The Hunter delivered a quick but powerful blow to the creature, sending it flying head-first into a wall. A metallic claw then pinned the dazed Jackal to the same wall as the Hunter's sensors fed the image of the snarling, bloodied mutate to a computer console in Latveria.

* * *


“Unit Four: Run scan.”

"…Scan indicates subject’s genetic structure is near-match for Dr. Miles Warren. Subject has gone through genetic augmentation"

“Check vitals.”

"Vitals appear to be normal, barring minor bodily damage sustained during subject’s capture."

No symptoms of clone degeneration. This may be the genuine Dr. Warren. But I have my doubts.

“Incapacitate the subject. I will inspect it myself.”

A metallic hand obscured the face of the squirming Jackal. Its finger peeled back and its palm opened to reveal a syringe that was promptly jabbed into the geneticist’s neck. I shut my eyes and began to concentrate. I feel myself become totally weightless as I lift myself out of my physical form. My body was now an empty vessel and would be vulnerable were it not for the magic circle surrounding it. With inhuman speed, my astral form phases through the walls of my castle and soars across the globe. It passes through concrete and steel, sinks through the solid ground, and effortlessly navigates the labyrinth-like sewers of Manhattan by homing in on the Hunter’s distinctive energy signature.

I’m invisible to both my Hunter and the sedated Jackal. He feels no pain as I reach outwards and drive my hand through his chest. As my hand begins phasing through him, I am met with some resistance. I retract my hand and again try phasing it through the creature. Again, I am pushed back by some unseen force from deep within. His body is occupied.

This one has a soul.

I levitate through the solid ground overhead and emerge on a busy New York street. Several vehicles pass through me as I continue drifting upwards into the sky and take off like a jet towards Latveria. Within moments I am returned to my body, whole again.

My eyes open and I immediately rise to my feet.

“This is the one. Bring him to me. All other units, abort mission and return to home base.”
 
danefaizahead.jpg

Vampire's Nest under Greenwich Park
London, England


Kaseem Farouq Abd as-Salam hurled himself at Dane, his sharpened vampire claws slashing wildly at the air as Dane moved aside and brought the Ebony Blade to bear. He attempted a quick thrust which Kas dodged deftly. Kas hissed, his eyes burning like hot coals. More slashes, more dodges fueled by vampiric speed.

"Give it up, Kas!" Dane taunted. The vampire lord hissed louder at his hated nickname. "You're fast, I'll give you that. But you brought claws to a sword fight. You've probably been on as many battlefields as I have--"

"More, Christian dog!" Kas tried a slash of his own with his claws but quickly swerved away when the Ebony Blade threatened to slice off his fingers, claws and all.

"So you know as well as I do that no matter how fast you are, I've got reach--" Dane paused to turn another of Kas' slashes away and attempt one of his own "--and a far greater degree of lethality with this sword than you'll ever have with those fleshy claws. Also, you may have noticed that this is a magic sword--" another parry "--so if you're waiting for me to tire myself out like my broadsword-wielding compatriots in the old days, you're in for another in what I'm sure has been a very long lifetime of disappointments!" The Ebony Blade twirled in Dane's hands weightlessly to slash again, as if to prove his point.

"You make fair points, sirrah Knight. Truly, you are proving to be a far worthier opponent than I expected." Dane, spotting Faiza sneaking up behind Kas, tried another slash to keep Kas' attention. Kas dodged again, this time turning to shoot out a hand and grab Faiza's wrist, all in one seamless motion. "Let us see, then, if I can't even the playing field a bit, shall we?" He easily overpowered Faiza, forcing Excalibur forward to parry Dane's Ebony Blade. Dane was so shocked he barely managed to counter the parry and keep hold of the Blade. He recovered quickly, though, and thrust for Kas' heart but stopped short as Faiza's head suddenly appeared; Kas, still holding Faiza's sword arm in his right hand, had swung her body close to his and flung his left arm around her neck in an immobilizing choke-hold. She was now all the shield Kas needed, and his vice-like grip had turned her sword into his own.

"Faz!"

"Witness, Crusader: your pagan relic and your treacherous wench both turned against you!"

"H--how?!" Faiza managed to choke out around Kas' iron grip on her throat.

"How am I not falling to pieces before your pagan idol like my erstwhile comrades? Simple, betrayer: I am a true servant of Allah; your pagan and Christian gods hold no power over me, for I know in my heart of hearts that they are false, no more holy than the dirt upon which we tread!" He kicked dirt in Dane's direction as punctuation, then exploited Dane's surprise to disarm him, sending the Ebony Blade flying with a quick strike from Excalibur. "It would seem the advantage you boasted of is now mine, cur!" He thrust forward with Excalibur as Dane fumbled with something in his glove. Finally, Dane raised his arm and, just as the mystical Avalonian steel would have sliced neatly through his left wrist, a shield of solid light shimmered into being and turned Excalibur's blade.

"Boy am I glad I held onto this little gizmo," Dane said, eliciting another hiss from Kas.

Kas tried another few strikes, but Dane proved a deft defender. In another attempt to seize the element of surprise, he instead hoisted Faiza over his head and hurled her at the Knight, who quickly shut off his holo-shield and caught her. He barely had time to shove her out of the way before Kas followed, forcibly tackling Dane to the floor. Dane's helmet went flying and, when their tumble was over, he found himself laying on his back as Kas stood and raised a hand bristling with sinister-looking claws. "If you see your God on the other side, sirrah, tell Him I'm coming for Him once I'm through with each and every one of His followers!"

"Sorry, I'll have to take a raincheck." Dane braced himself, digging his elbows into the soft, pliant earth of the cave, and kicked Kas in the chest with as much force as he could muster. The vampire grunted and went flying. Both combatants regained their footing and began circling each other, looking for an opening. "You should probably know that I've been trained in hand-to-hand combat by no less than Captain America."

"As you Americans would say," Kas rushed forward with blinding speed and slammed a fist into Dane's face before he could even raise one of his own, "I am trembling in my shoes!"

Dane tumbled end over end and slammed into the wall. He stumbled a bit as he pulled himself up. "It's..." Dane spat and was disturbed to see blood, "'shaking in my boots.' 800 years roaming around the world and you can't even get a simple one-liner right? I'm disappointed!" Dane charged at Kas but again his vampiric speed proved too great an advantage; Kas dodged, grabbed Dane's cape, and used the momentum to swing him around, sending him flying into another of the cave's walls.

"Pathetic," Kas mocked. "Tales were told of you, sirrah Knight, on my side of the battlefield. Tales of a single warrior who fought like a demon, mystic sword bringing whole platoons to their knees as if they were children. Some of my fellow warriors seemed to go so far as to respect you, even as you laid waste to their brothers-in-arms. All of that vaunted skill, and this is the best you can muster? It shames me to know that one as insignificant as you bested my master Chandu."

"Whoa," Dane wiped more blood from his mouth, "wait a minute. You think I beat Chandu? No, no, you've got it all wrong."

"Have I?" Kas seemed genuinely interested.

He must've really been devoted to his master after all, Dane thought. "Yeah. I never laid a hand on Chandu, that was all Prester John. See, if there's one thing you really gotta understand about me, Kas, it's this..." The vampire listened intently. "I've got a lot of friends!"

Blood spattered from Kas' mouth as his jaw worked in disbelief. He looked down to find a foot of pure, gleaming silver sticking out of his chest. "H--how?!" he stammered.

"Just your friendly neighborhood traitor," Faiza taunted over Kas' shoulder. "Remember?" She smiled.

To Faz's surprise, Kas returned her smile. "You didn't let me finish." He grabbed the sword with both hands and shrugged his shoulders forward, using his whole body to wrench Excalibur from Faiza's grasp. Then he turned to her and gingerly slid it from his chest. "I was asking how you managed to miss my heart, foolish child!" Smoke rose from Kas' hands where they touched Excalibur--apparently his protection from its power as a holy relic didn't extend to prolonged contact--so he hurled the blade at its owner. Faiza dove out of the way just in time for Excalibur to whiz by her head and embed itself in the wall behind her.

As he turned to face Dane again, pain flashed through Kas' skull as the Ebony Blade's hilt slammed into his temple. As his vision cleared, he saw the Knight's holo-shield shimmer into existence as he slid into a Chinese broadsword stance. "Round two," the Knight said as blood trickled from his smiling lips.

Kas' mouth moved but no sound emerged as he whispered an incantation, his hands shifting from one strange position to the next. When he was done, fire that seemed to hiss and spit with a life of its own coalesced about his hands into the shape of a broad scimitar and a wide, round buckler. More spectacularly, the very earth beneath his feet rumbled as three golems emerged, dirt tumbling off their rocky, earthen hides. He returned the Knight's smile. "Indeed."
 
Last edited:
ironf-1.png

"Thanks... for the help," I say, putting my hand on my knees and catching my breath. "I... would have... caught them."
"Before or after the new year?"

I hold my left hand up and show Danny my middle finger. He smiles and turns away, pulling his cellphone from his sleeve.

"Yeah... yeah... Alright. We're on the way."

Danny hangs up and slips his phone back into his sleeve.

"That was Gladys. Someone's in the office waiting for us."
It's a good twenty minutes before we make it back to the Heroes for Hire offices. Even though the short-lived H4H-Mobile was ugly as sin, it sure did make commuting more convenient. Still, we can't just turn around and buy a new car every time a supervillain destroys one, so we've decided to go back to hoofing it for the time being. Maybe if we pull a good profit this quarter, we can invest in a new car. A better one this time.

When we walk in, Gladys is sitting at her desk with headphones in. She sees us and presses a button on her computer before removing the headphones. "Watching Netflix again?" Luke asks.

"Mad Men," Gladys admits. "I gotta tell you: I don't like that Peter Campbell boy one bit. Reminds me of a boy I knew back then."

"What about the client?" I ask.

Gladys nods to the office. "She's in there. I offered her coffee, but she didn't want anything. She just said she'd wait for you two to return."

Luke and I enter the office to find a woman sitting in front of our desks. When she hears the door open, she stands and turns. She's African-America, maybe late thirties to early forties. There's sadness - maybe fear - in her eyes. Nevertheless, she stands straight and faces us.

"Hello. I'm Iron Fist, and this is my associate, Luke Cage."

"I'm Reina Alvarez," the woman replies.

Luke and I each take a seat at our respective desks and motion for Ms. Alvarez to join us. She resumes her seat in the chair between our desks. Luke folds his hands and leans over his desk. "What can we do for you, Ms. Alvarez?"

"It's my son, Victor," she explains. "He's gone missing."

"How long ago was this?"

"Going on two and a half weeks now," she answers. "I'm worried that something terrible has happened... that he's been sucked in to something bad."

Luke furrows his brow. "What makes you say that?"

"It's the boys in our neighborhood. Victor always avoided them. He was a good boy, the star of his basketball team." As she reminiscences, I can see the pain welling up behind her eyes. She pauses for a moment. "But everything changed when his father died. He was in the Navy. Victor... took it pretty hard. He started hanging with this crowd, and..."

She doesn't need to say anymore. Luke and I have seen this a thousand times. Troubled teen falls in with the wrong people and gets in over his head. Luke knows the story all too well. "We'll find your son, Ms. Alvarez," he promises.
 
AmazingSpidermanlogo-1.png


It's Friday night. I've finally recovered from my scrapes and bruises from that Shocker escapade. There has been a sighting of Venom in the Bronx, inciting trouble and fighting the Heroes for Hire. This was just the final escalation of a series of violent attacks and murders of gangbangers in the area. Apparently, he escaped into the sewers. I feel compelled to investigate, to track Venom down somehow and make him answer for what he's done. But it's also the night of the Midtown High Homecoming Dance, and I promised Mr. Warren I'd chaperone.

The spectacular Spider-Man, on chaperone duty. I'd rather be rifling through the sewers for Venom, honestly. Hey, at least the punch is good, right? So... y'know... small victories.

Apparently, I'm not the only one roped into this farce. Carlie Cooper, Midtown's resident nurse, is here on first aid duty. She looks to be having about as much fun as I am - which is, to say, none at all. She spots me across the gym and smiles. I wave back politely as she begins to approach.

"So, be honest," I say, "any fainters? Pukers? Twisted ankle, anything?"

She shakes her head and laughs. "No, nothing yet. It can get pretty exciting after eleven, though."

"Really?"

"No, not really," she admits with a smile. "So how'd you get pulled into this?"

I take a sip of my punch. "Favor for a friend."

"Raymond Warren?" she asks. Seeing the surprising look on my face, she explains, "I saw you talking to him last week. Plus, you mentioned that you were a former student, and he's the only faculty member still around since those days, so..."

"Look at you, miss detective." I set down my empty punch glass. A slow song begins to play, and the students actually face each other as opposed to their usual method of "dancing" - which consists of little more than grinding their pelvises together.

"Now, this is where it could get interesting," Carlie says while looking out over the crowd. She's not kidding: a few of the couples have already locked lips and don't appear interested in doing anything else, including breathing. "Do you ever miss it?"

"High school dances?" I ask. "I don't think I ever attended one, to be perfectly honest."

Carlie appears shocked. "Never? You're kidding!" When the look on my face tells her that I'm not, she shakes her head. "Well, Mr. Parker, that is unacceptable. Come on, I'll show you what you missed."

She takes my hand - which is surprising enough - and tries to lead me to the dance floor. "I think I'll pass," I say with a laugh, trying to be polite.

"You'd rather stand around by the punch bowl all night?"

I shrug. "It's good punch."

Carlie stops and looks at me. What happens next, I probably should have seen coming. Then again, it's not like Spider-Sense warns you about these kinds of things. Carlie moves in and plants a soft kiss on my lips. I'm so in shock that I'm surprised I can even think of something to say.

"Carlie..." I take a deep breath. "I can't. My wife..."

Carlie bites her lip, clearly embarrassed. "Right." She looks down at her feet. "Of course. I just... I didn't know if things were really over between you."

"Neither do I," I admit, "but I have to hold out hope."

"I... can't believe I did that," she laughs nervously. She looks up at me again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... without asking." And before the total awkwardness of the situation kills her, she turns on her heels and walks away in a daze.

Oh, brother, Pete. What have you gotten yourself into this time? Sometimes, I almost prefer the days when I couldn't get a girl if I tried. Life seemed... simpler, somehow, back then.

Luckily, some commotion off by the bleachers gives me an opportunity to forget about that moment. A group of boys - jocks, from the look of them, but it's always hard to tell when they're dressed up - is huddled up, laughing and shouting with raised voices. I don't need Spider-Sense to tell me they're up to no good. Peter Parker, super-chaperone to the rescue!

"Gentlemen," I announce loudly over the music. "Mind telling me what's going on?" The ones who hear me scatter, and I try to memorize their faces. In the meantime, I return my attention to the remaining group. They're circled around a small boy as their apparent ringleader pours an entire bowl of punch over the boy's head. "Hey!"

This time, they all hear me. They take off running, giggling like idiots, but I got a clearer look at their faces. I'll find them before the night is done and report them to Principal Gonzales. First, I turn back to their victim. As he wipes his punch-drenched chin, I realize it's the same kid I saw in the hallway. Young, small, dark-skinned. He barely looks old enough to be in high school.

"Are you okay?" I ask as I extend a hand to help him up. He accepts it, but he remains silent. He doesn't even make eye contact. He is just like me when I was his age. "Don't let them get to you." I feel bad for the poor kid. Didn't even have the sense to avoid the dance.

"Sorry about the punch," he says sheepishly.

I can't help but crack half a smile. After all that, he's only worried that I'd be upset about a little spilled punch. "Come on. Let's get you to the bathroom to get cleaned up," I suggest. "What's your name?"

"Miles," the boy replies in that soft voice of his. "Miles Morales."

"Miles, I'm Peter." I give him a smile, and he gives me half of one back. Hey, it's a start. Putting my hand on his shoulder, I start to lead Miles towards the bathroom when my head buzzes like crazy. Oh, you've gotta be kidding me...

I half expect to see Toomes crash through a window or something, returned to get his revenge, but the reality is far stranger. A blonde girl - who looks maybe only a year or so older than these kids - wearing a lion pelt and holding a spear stands at the far end of the gym, flanked by what appears to be a lion walking on two feet. The gym goes into a panic when they see the uninvited guests.

047.jpg


"Miles, go! Run to safety!" I instruct. I don't need to tell him twice as he quickly joins the crowd stampeding out of the gymnasium. Girls trip over their dresses, and their dates help them to their feet. Meanwhile, the intruders merely scan the crowd. Luckily, the confusion gives me an opportunity to vanish behind the bleachers and get changed. People are too busy running to wonder where Spider-Man came from.

"I don't know who you are," I announce, anchoring a webline on the rafters and swinging towards the strange intruders, "but I'm going to need to see your tickets."

"It's him," the girl says.

The lion creature throws itself at me and knocks me to the ground. It opens its mouth wide for a roar, and I'm faced with a row of razor-sharp teeth. I point my web-shooter down the lion's open throat and fire a thick net of webbing. The creature recoils, and I roll out from under its massive weight.

"It took a long time to find you, but here we are at last, Spider."

"You could've just used Google Maps." I get to my feet. The lion is still struggling with that throat full of web that I gave it. It will recover in moments. Doesn't give me much time. "Who are you?"

"I am the blood of the Hunter. Ana Kravinoff."

Kravinoff? Of course. That explains the garish outfit.

"You have already met my brother, Vladimir." She motions to the lion with her spear.

"Vladimir?" Last I heard, Vladimir Kravinoff was dead. And he was definitely a human. "So that's it, then? Come to avenge Daddy Kraven?"

Ana smirks. "Not quite." She lunges at me, spear outstretched. I move to dodge, but she's fasted than I anticipated. The tip of her spear catches my side, tearing fabric and the skin beneath. I hold my side in pain as Ana tumbles and gets to her feet.

Suddenly, I feel as though a truck hit me. I look at the spearhead, dripping with my blood. The realization doesn't take long. She poisoned me! Fighting dirty, huh? Now I know she's a Kravinoff...

As I fall to the ground, I see Ana and "Vladimir" standing over my body. "Let the Grim Hunt begin."
 
Thor-Banner.jpg


"WHERE IS SHE!?" Thor rages at his adoptive brother, spittle flying out of his mouth in anger.

Loki tries to hide his smile, but fails. He loves when his brother gets like this. When Thor loses control and becomes the boy Loki tricked so many times in the past, "Why, Thor. I know not what you mean. I've been in this cage for almost a year now. How could I have possibly done anything to anyone. Your father saw to that after he locked himself in his own prison."

"Leave father out of this," Thor growls. "I know you know where and who have taken her. And the warriors. And you will tell me. As your king I command you."

"You're not my king," Loki spits back at him. "You always seem to forget that one little part, don't you."

"No, there is just a part of me that wants my brother back," Thor admits.

"Well, don't hold your breath, your highness," the trickster god laughs. "So someone's kidnapped Sif and the Warriors Three. Must be someone who's mighty powerful."

Thor doesn't believe Loki to be innocent of the feat, but he knows when Loki isn't going to give him any information. So he concedes and plays along...for now.

"Indeed. And they seem to have been taken without a struggle. Whoever it was ambushed them."

"Not an easy thing to do with the Warriors."

"Indeed."

"Let me help you," Loki says, almost in a sympathetic way.

Thor eyes him suspiciously, "Loki, I am not a fool."

"Thor, you can defeat me. I have been imprisoned for a year, and am weakened," Loki pleads. "Let me out and I will help you till the end. This I swear."

Thor knows he shouldn't. But his brother is most likely right. Whoever has take his comrades is powerful. And Thor will not be able to take them alone. So the Thunderer unlocks the cage and lets Loki free.

"One wrong move and I will put you back in here in pieces, Loki."
 
"It's my son, Victor," she explains. "He's gone missing."

"How long ago was this?"

"Going on two and a half weeks now," she answers. "I'm worried that something terrible has happened... that he's been sucked in to something bad."

Luke furrows his brow. "What makes you say that?"

"It's the boys in our neighborhood. Victor always avoided them. He was a good boy, the star of his basketball team." As she reminiscences, I can see the pain welling up behind her eyes. She pauses for a moment. "But everything changed when his father died. He was in the Navy. Victor... took it pretty hard. He started hanging with this crowd, and..."

She doesn't need to say anymore. Luke and I have seen this a thousand times. Troubled teen falls in with the wrong people and gets in over his head. Luke knows the story all too well. "We'll find your son, Ms. Alvarez," he promises.


"Do you have an idea on where Victor might be?"

"There's this boy he used to hang out with, Bobbito. I always heard Bobbito was up to no good, they said he kicked Mrs. Rosa down a flight of steps and then stole her social security money."

"Bottom feeder, huh? Yeah, we know the type."

"I saw Bobbito a few days ago, but he acted like he hadn't seen Victor."


"Give us an idea on where we can find Bobbito. I'm sure he'll be more... forthcoming to my friend and I."

She reels off an address. Somewhere around 181st Street. Washington Heights.
"Here," Alvarez says, pulling a photo from her purse. It's a skinny young man in a basketball jersey. "So you know what he look like. And as for money--"

"Save it for later,"
Danny says, holding his hand up. "We don't accept payment in advance. A new company policy."

"A job a few weeks back left a bad taste in our mouths. But, we're on the case. Don't worry."


*****


The bus rolls through Washington Heights. Danny and I are towards the front, the rest of the passengers are far away from us towards the back. A building under construction catches my eye as we pass by.

"Look," I say, pointing towards the warehouse. "Jess told me she went there a few days ago for the Bugle, working on a story.Said there was some kind of brouhaha with SHIELD and some capes."

"Anybody we know?"

"I think she said Steve was involved. Him and someone else."

"Huh. This is our stop."

Danny hits the cord and the bus comes to a stop. I give a semi-salute to the bus driver as I follow Danny down the bus steps. The bus rolls on, smoke billowing out its exhaust. We're in front of a five story walk-up.

"This is where she said Bobbito lives. Somewhere on the third floor."
 
SABanner.png




Previously


The Lighthouse
2,000 Miles Above Earth


j5b9f7.jpg


"Alright, we have a mission," Steve said to the three costumed heroes gathered around the conference room table. "It's a smaller mission, so it's jut the four of us."

"Good," Valkyrie said, her arms crossed. "After our last encounter, I think it's best that I spend time away from Hawkeye. For his sake."

The screen behind Steve lit up, showing profile pictures of a dozen men. "These twelve men are the board of directors for Montgomery Energy Solutions, a Fortune 500 company based out of Madripoor. MES, in addition to being one of the world's biggest petroleum suppliers, is also one of the top revenue streams for HYDRA."

"We're kicking heads in?" Eric O'Grady, Ant-Man, asked.

"We're going the other way."

Steve pressed the remote button in his hands. One by one, red slashes went over the pictures of the twelve men, until only one was without a slash. "Over the past three months, eleven of these men have died." The screen behind him changed, showing crime scene pictures of dead bodies. "Murdered by unknown assailants who are either killed in the ensuing struggle, or commit suicide shortly after the murder.."

"Hmm," Black Widow said, looking at the photos. "Something doesn't add up. It's too sloppy, too unprofessional. These men were amateurs."

"We don't know. Any secrets they had they took to the grave. Well, the only man left is Franklin Evans, a British citizen and MES' chief financial officer. Two days ago, he reached out to MI:13. For protection from the assassin, he's willing to tell us everything about MES, HYDRA, and their activities. Evans is currently at his home in London. SHIELD and MI:13 are monitoring him. While they're waiting, we're going proactive and tracking the assassin down. Let's go."

The four heroes stood and walked towards the teleport pad. In a bright flash of green light, they disappeared from the Lighthouse.


*****


London


Roger Purefoy turned the keys and unlocked the door to his flat. In his right hand was a plastic bag filled with groceries. He walked through the small apartment that he called home, placing the groceries on the kitchen counter before walking into his living room.

"Mister Purefoy,"a voice with a soft southern accent said from the chair in the living room, his face hidden in shadows. Roger started to suddenly back up away from the intruder. "Robert's Rules of Order," the man said. Purefoy stopped in his tracks, his eyes glazed over and his jaw slack. The intruder stood and walked towards Purefoy. His face came into view, revealing a blond man with a battle-hardened face.

"Time for us to go to work."


Oakwood
London


Steve nodded at the agents on guard as he entered the house's foyer with his team behind him. "Who's in charge here?" He asked.

"I am," a gray-haired man said in a crisp English accent said as he came into the foyer. "Liam Hawthorn. MI:13."

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Commander Steven Rogers, this is my team. Did Wisdom tell you we were coming?"

"He did, indeed. I'm to show you to Mister Evans so you can brief him."

"Right," Steve said, turning to his team. "Ant-Man, I want you shrunk down and find every way to go to and from this house, no matter how small."

"You're the boss, boss," O'Grady said sarcastically, shrinking out of sight.

"Widow, check the perimeter with Hawthorn's men, make sure it's secure. Use your knowledge and expertise, find any vantage point a sniper could use."

"On my way,"Natahsa said, turning to leave the foyer.

"Valkyrie, you're with me."

The two followed Hawthorn through the many rooms and hallways of the mansion belonging to Franklin Evans, CFO of a Fortune 500 company and financier to HYDRA. In every room they went through, SHIELD and MI:13 agents were standing vigilant watch.

"Here we are," Hawthorn said, coming to a stop on the house's third floor landing. "This is where we're keeping Evans. We have a man inside with him, but he knows you're coming in. I'll go outside and help your people."

Hawthorn walked off as Steve and Valkyrie went into the room. Evans was sitting in a comfy leather chair, reading the paper. There was a table to his right that had a tea tray resting on it, empty tea cup were scatted on it. A young MI:13 agent was on the other side of the room, looking out the window for any sign of danger.

"Are you my protector?" Evans asked as he pulled the paper down. He was a middle aged man with a ruddy face and dark brown hair combed in a part. He eyed the two Avengers skeptically. "What are you, some sort of bloody clowns?"

"We're here to make sure an assassin doesn't put a bullet in your brain," Steve said, narrowing his eyes. "Valkyrie, what do you see?"

"I see no traces of the deathglow around this man," she said, turning toward the MI:13 agent shadowing Evan. "Nor him. Death may be coming for him, but it is not imminent."

"Right," Steve said, pulling up a chair and sitting in front of Evans. "Mr. Evans, who wants to kill you?"

"How the hell should I know?" Evans snapped. "You think I'm behind this."

"No, but you were a big wig at Montgomery Energy Solutions. You funneled billions of dollars into HYDRA funding."

"I was not awa-"

"Stop right there," Steve said, holding his hand up. "You will not lie to me. You will not say that you had no idea what was going on. You will not say that you were just following orders. I've had enough of that excuse to last two lifetimes. You gave evil men means to create destruction and murder. You're just like they are. Now, we want the intelligence you have on HYDRA, but you need our protection to live. You understand how that works? Want versus need. Now, tell me who is trying to kill you, or I will pull all these men from your home. I'm sure we can make do... can you say the same?"

"I don't know," Evans pleaded. "Honestly. All I know is that three months ago, a man came to see Aaron, our CEO, and tried to intimidate him into stop funding HYDRA."

"What kind of man? Who was he?"

"Steele! He called himself John Steele."

Steve suddenly stood up and quickly turned to Valkyrie. "Let's go."

Steve hurried through the mansion, Valkyrie walking behind him and trying to keep up. "I do not understand, who is John Steele?"

"A man I haven't seen in nearly 70 years. He's the first super soldier."
 
2d0bck2.jpg



MODOK's modulated laughter fills the room as the Wrecker's face reddens with anger.

"The hell is so funny?"He demands to know as he jumps to his feet and shakes his wrecking bar at the screen.

"Apologies" MODOK says "That was unprofessional of me."

"Damn right it was." The Wrecker huffs "I came here to do business not be insulted."

"Of course." MODOK says congenially "Please, return to your seat."

"Fine." The Wrecker lets himself drop into the chair and folds his arms across his chest "But you're on thin ice pal."

"Understood." MODOK replies "Please understand that AIM is grateful for your business and pleased to be of assistance in your criminal endeavors."

"But?"

"But what you ask for is not possible. AIM cannot simply create Cosmic Cubes at will. Even if it could I doubt very much that you have the means to reimburse for one. Regardless of the how or why, AIM will not be able to satisfy that particular request."

"Figures." The Wrecker grumbles

"We can however offer you something else. Something we are sure you be able to make great use of." MODOK continues

"Yeah?" The Wrecker leans forward in his chair "What's that?"

"This." MODOK says as a trio of AIM scientists enter the room pushing a metal cart with what appears to be a gold colored belt on it.

"I ask for a Cosmic Cube and you offer me somethin' to hold my pants up with?" The Wrecker asks, annoyed now "This some kinda joke?"

"That is no mere belt Mr. Garthwaite."
MODOK says "And it will do far more than 'hold up your pants' as you put it."

"Oh yeah?" The Wrecker says as he walks over and eyes the belt. Now that's he's closer he can see that it seems to be made of several interconnecting rectangular panels "Like what?"

"The Kineti-grav modulater belt™ uses a portable iso-metric blackhole generator built into its lattice framework to generate a skin tight field around its wearer which shields him from the effects of kinetic or gravitational forces directed against him. It also allows the wearer to direct those forces through the belt for a variety of effects" One of the AIM scientists says proudly.

"Which means what?"

"Ahem. It means, Mr. Garthwaite, that wearing this belt will increase your strength three fold, double your speed, allow you to fly and generate an impenetrable force field around you."

"Yeah?" The Wrecker eyes the scientist "And what happens when Iron Man finds a way to short circuit it? Or when the Black Panther's fancy daggers cut through your oh so impenetrable force field?"

"I assure you that-"

"Save it pipsqueek." The Wrecker says as he puts a huge palm around the scientist's helmet and pushes him away "I've been doin' this for a long time and I know better than to hand over my hard earned cash for some cheap power boost that ain't really gonna change anything."

The Wrecker turns to MODOK

"I came here for power. Real power. Something that will make the heroes quake in their shiny boots. Do you have something for me or not?"

For a moment MODOK simply stares at the Wrecker.

"AIM does have something for you Mr. Garthwaite. But it will not be cheap and you will have to come to New York for it."

"It better not be another stupid belt." The Wrecker sneers

"It is not." MODOK assures him "What I have in mind is a hammer. Something I am sure, you, of all people, can appreciate."



2d0bck2.jpg


Staten Island

Two AIM technicians shuffle their feet idly as they lean by the side of a yellow van while a third peers out into the night with obvious impatience.

The AIMers had been waiting at this abandoned construction site for nearly an hour and they were starting to wonder if their client was ever going to show when the sound of heavy foot falls in the dirt brought them to alertness.

The three technicians swivel their heads as one in the direction of the sound to find that the Wrecker has finally arrived.

"You're late Mr. Garthwaite." One of them says.

"I'm a wanted man ya moron." He says with a scowl "What you think I can just walk in the open? In this city?"

The technician who spoke seems to consider this for a moment, then he nods "I suppose you're right."

"Damn right I am."
The Wrecker hawks and spits in the dirt then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Besides your fellow beekeepers didn't have any problem makin' me wait in Arkansas and I wasn't about to go through that again."

"Ahem. No matter. We have what MODOK promised you." He says gesturing to a large metal case sitting in the back of the open truck "You've brought the payment?"

"Here" The Wrecker tosses a briefcase at the technician who catches it rather clumsily. "Now show me."

"Of course" The Technician says with a nod as his two fellows simultaneously enter a code which opens the metal case with a hiss.

The Wrecker approaches to take a look at what he's bought and can't help but be impressed by the look of it. Its no cosmic cube, but it looks like a hell of a lot more than some lame gravity belt. He reaches out and takes hold of the long handle.

"Its based on an alien design." The Technician says "We've modified and improved the original of course."

"What's it do?" The Wrecker asks as he eyes the weapon.

"Why, anything you want." The technician replies as the Wrecker lifts the Universal Weapon over his head to test its weight.

 
Last edited:
logopxh.jpg



Moon Knight leaps from roof top to roof top whenever he is able. When the gap between buildings is too large he fires a grappling line. The urgency with which he moves is so obvious than an onlooker could be forgiven for thinking that the white clad hero is running from something.

The reality of course, is that he rushing towards something. The urgency, which is very real, is not the result of fear, rather it is due to the calls coming in on the police scanner built into his cowl. That situation which had been developing uptown had, by the sound of it, quickly grown out of control and if the scanner was to be believed, the police were in trouble and there were no heroes on the scene.

At least not until Moon Knight stops on the edge of a rooftop sixty seconds later to take in the chaos below.

Three punks, he couldn't think of another more appropriate name for them were in the middle of giving the police all they could handle while a stunned crowd of New Yorkers on their way to work stood well back in an ever widening circle. Some of the citizens were screaming, other stared in silence. The majority were holding up portable devices to capture what they were seeing.

The crowd is a concern, and a cause of annoyance, but they seem safe enough for now as long as they stay back and Moon Knight shifts his focus away from them just in time to see one of the punks lift a mail box over his head and hurl it one of the cops.

"Dammit." Moon Knight hisses as he realizes that the cop is not going to get out of the way in time.

The crowd gasps in horror as the mailbox slams into the officer and sends him flying across the street. More gasps and a few cheers follow a split second later when Moon Knight reaches street level via zipline and kicks the punk who threw the box in the chest with both feet.

The punk more or less holds his ground and the redirected force causes Moon Knight to have to flip backwards away from the punk. The hero manages to land on his feet, smoothly as far as the onlookers are concerned, though the truth is that he could have just as easily landed on his rear end rather than his feet. At least all three punks are now focused exclusively on him, which means that no one else is in immediate danger.

"This ends now." He growls in his most intimidating tone as he moves into a fighting stance with fists clenched tight. He wasn't sure what they were capable of, but he had to keep their attention on him.

"I don't think so hero!" One of the punks, not the one who threw the mail box says. He then takes a deep breath and exhales a tight stream of flame at Moon Knight as more screams fill the air.



logopxh.jpg


Moon Knight ducks and rolls out of the way of the flames being spat at him. His carbonadium armor can take the heat but its not like he's Iron Man, he doesn't have a built in cooling system and he can feel the heat washing over him even though the flames don't touch him.

Fortunately the length of the burst the fire breather can produce seems, appropriately enough, to be limited by the amount of air in his lungs and with that expended the flames die down. He immediately begins to suck in more air but the brief respite allows Moon Knight to get back to his feet and draw twin crescent guns from his hip holsters. He takes aim and is about to fire when the third thug makes his move.

This one is a speedster and while he's not blindingly fast, certainly no match for Quicksilver for example, he's plenty fast enough to get close enough to disarm Moon Knight before he can fire. The hero's eyes instinctively try to follow the speedster as he moves away and he is caught by surprise when the first punk, the one with the strength, roughly grabs his cloak and tugs, yanking him off his feet and pulling him to the ground.

"Big mistake." Moon Knight growls and an electrical surge shoots through the cloak, shocking the punk who screams and collapses.

Moon Knight then leaps to his feet and narrowly avoids being scorched by a plume of fire. The speedster is on him again, punching and kicking, but the armor takes the brunt of the blows and he is able to counter with a sudden head butt which sends the punk crumbling to the street.

Moon Knight then swivels his body towards the fire breather, who is in the process of sucking in more air, and in one smooth motion, pulls a truncheon from his belt and hurls it at the punk.

The club strikes the punk hard in the chest, knocking the wind out of him and he falls backwards with smoke trailing from his nostrils.

With all three punks downed the crowd erupts into excited cheers for the white clad warrior who ignores the applause, retrieves his guns and walks purposefully towards the downed fire breather.

"Who are you?" He growls as he grabs the punk by his shirt "What were you trying to accomplish here?"

"kaff-kaff-hurts...." The punk says weekly as his hands cover his chest where the truncheon struck him. He suddenly seems very young and very afraid.

Moon Knight's eye's narrow and he tightens his grip "It'll hurt a lot more if you don't tell me what I want to know."

"Hey" A police officer says from behind Moon Knight "Let him go now."

"Talk" Moon Knight says, ignoring the cop

"was just tryin to have some fun...test the powers....please, don't hit me again."

"I said let him go!" The cop says forcefully now. He and his fellow officers have formed a semi circle around Moon Knight and though they aren't pointing their weapons at him, they haven't holstered them and it looks like they could go either way.

"He's all yours."
Moon Knight says as he lets the punk drop to the concrete.

He then fires one of his crescent guns, shooting a grappling line at a nearby rooftop, and pulling himself up and away from the scene.
 
Last edited:
The bus rolls through Washington Heights. Danny and I are towards the front, the rest of the passengers are far away from us towards the back. A building under construction catches my eye as we pass by.

"Look," I say, pointing towards the warehouse. "Jess told me she went there a few days ago for the Bugle, working on a story. Said there was some kind of brouhaha with SHIELD and some capes."

"Anybody we know?"

"I think she said Steve was involved. Him and someone else."

"Huh. This is our stop."

Danny hits the cord and the bus comes to a stop. I give a semi-salute to the bus driver as I follow Danny down the bus steps. The bus rolls on, smoke billowing out its exhaust. We're in front of a five story walk-up.

"This is where she said Bobbito lives. Somewhere on the third floor."
Looking around the neighborhood, it's no surprise a kid like Victor Alvarez could get mixed up with some lowlifes. This is one of those neighborhoods where your options are become a gangbanger or fear for your safety. Most kids get involved because they think it's the only way to protect their family... or themselves. Sad thing is, they're probably right. This isn't Midtown. Nobody's looking out for these kids up here.

Luke and I get our usual welcome as we step off the bus - which is, to say, that people scatter. Kids hanging on stoops and street corners take off running. No doubt they were in the middle of dealing when we arrived. Lucky for them, they're not what we're here for. Not yet, anyway.

As we approach Bobbito's building, one defiant kid remains sitting on the stoop. I look at Luke, and he nods. He approaches the kid, towering over him and casting him in shadow. "We're looking for Bobbito."

The kid cranes his neck to look up at Luke. "I don't know nobody by that name," he sneers. "What're you, the Avengers or something?"

"Yeah, we're the Avengers. I'm the Hulk, and that's Ant-Man." Luke grabs the kid by his shirt and lifts him off the stoop. "Now, you gonna tell us where Bobbito lives?"

"Third floor. Apartment 312."

"'Preciate it," Luke replies, lowering the kid to an inch above the ground before dropping him. "Let's go, Ant-Man."

Once we're inside, I say, "Ant-Man? You couldn't have said I was Thor or something?"

Luke arches an eyebrow. "With your skinny little arms?" As we march up the steps, he says, "What do you think? A number 35?"

I shake my head. "No need. It's just some punk kid. A number 5 should work."

"If you say so."

When we reach the third floor, Luke's the one who knocks. The door opens partway, locked by a chain. A vaguely Cuban-looking kid answers. I'm willing to bet money that's Bobbito. "What?"

"You Bobbito?" Luke asks.

"Who's askin'?"

"Singing telegram service. Open up."

"Go f*** yourself." He slams the door. Not that it does him any good, because Luke simply kicks it down with one of his size 13 boots. "What the Hell, man?"

This time, I take the lead. I bull rush Bobbito, knocking him to the floor and pinning him with a knee on his chest. Then, channeling my chi, I summon the iron fist. I can see Bobbito's eyes go wide as the reddish-pink energy dances across my knuckles. "Where's Victor Alvarez?"
 
When we reach the third floor, Luke's the one who knocks. The door opens partway, locked by a chain. A vaguely Cuban-looking kid answers. I'm willing to bet money that's Bobbito. "What?"

"You Bobbito?" Luke asks.

"Who's askin'?"

"Singing telegram service. Open up."

"Go f*** yourself." He slams the door. Not that it does him any good, because Luke simply kicks it down with one of his size 13 boots. "What the Hell, man?"

This time, I take the lead. I bull rush Bobbito, knocking him to the floor and pinning him with a knee on his chest. Then, channeling my chi, I summon the iron fist. I can see Bobbito's eyes go wide as the reddish-pink energy dances across my knuckles. "Where's Victor Alvarez?"

"I said," Bobbito growls through gritted teeth. He slams his palms into Danny's chest and propels him up into the air. "GO **** YOURSELF!"

Danny hurls backwards and goes flying out the apartment door.

"What the fu--"

Before I can defend myself, Bobbito slams me to the floor with a powerful right hook. I collapse to the floor and Bobbito stomps on my back, sending me through the floor down into the apartment below. I crash into the living room while an elderly couple watch impassively.

"Sorry about the damage," I say, standing up and brushing debris from my shoulder. I pull my wallet out and hand my card to the woman. "Believe it or not, we have insurance for this kind of thing..."

I stick my wallet back into my pants and jump up at the hole in the ceiling, pulling myself back up into the apartment.
 
"I said," Bobbito growls through gritted teeth. He slams his palms into Danny's chest and propels him up into the air. "GO **** YOURSELF!"

Danny hurls backwards and goes flying out the apartment door.

"What the fu--"

Before I can defend myself, Bobbito slams me to the floor with a powerful right hook. I collapse to the floor and Bobbito stomps on my back, sending me through the floor down into the apartment below. I crash into the living room while an elderly couple watch impassively.

"Sorry about the damage," I say, standing up and brushing debris from my shoulder. I pull my wallet out and hand my card to the woman. "Believe it or not, we have insurance for this kind of thing..."

I stick my wallet back into my pants and jump up at the hole in the ceiling, pulling myself back up into the apartment.
When Bobbito hits me, it feels like someone slammed a dumbbell into my chest. It feels like... well, it feels like when Luke hits me. I'm thrown through the open door frame, and my back hits the railing of the stairs nearby. I flip backwards over the railing but catch myself before I go tumbling down the stairs. All the while, I wonder... is Bobbito a meta?

By the time I've pulled myself back up onto the railing, Bobbito has knocked Luke through the floor and grabbed a backpack. He takes off running down the hallway. I pursue him while Luke gathers himself. Bobbito's fast - just as fast I am, actually. When we reach the end of the hallway, Bobbito launches himself through the window and across the street.

Okay. There's no way a normal eighteen year old can make a jump like that. He's definitely a meta.

"Where'd he go?" Luke asks as he catches up. I point out the window. "Better hold on." I grab onto Luke's arm as he leaps across the street, much like Bobbito did. We hit the ground running, desperate to make up the lost ground. "A number 5, huh?"

"Well, I didn't know he'd be a meta," I reply. "On a normal kid, that works almost every time."

Luckily, we have gained ground on Bobbito. I swing wide to flank him. When I'm in range, I jump feet-first, connecting with Bobbito's shoulder. He falls to the roof, and his backpack splits open. A handful of glass vials roll out. Bobbito scrambles to his feet just as Luke is arriving.

"Tell us where to find Victor."
 
"Where'd he go?" Luke asks as he catches up. I point out the window. "Better hold on." I grab onto Luke's arm as he leaps across the street, much like Bobbito did. We hit the ground running, desperate to make up the lost ground. "A number 5, huh?"

"Well, I didn't know he'd be a meta," I reply. "On a normal kid, that works almost every time."

Luckily, we have gained ground on Bobbito. I swing wide to flank him. When I'm in range, I jump feet-first, connecting with Bobbito's shoulder. He falls to the roof, and his backpack splits open. A handful of glass vials roll out. Bobbito scrambles to his feet just as Luke is arriving.

"Tell us where to find Victor."

"Go to hell," Bobbito shouts. He charges towards me and slams into my like a linebacker, picking me up and crashing into the wall of the hallway. I slam my fists into his shoulder blades as he pounds on my sides. I gain a foothold and push the young man back against the wall.

"You might want to listen to my buddy, dawg. For your sake..."

He charges again. This time, I'm ready. I throw up a forearm and block his fist, driving him to the ground with a powerful haymaker. He looks up, a bit dazed, but I knee him to the face and send him flying across the hallway. He crashes into the wall and slumps to the floor, his eyes dazed and unfocused.

"Kids today," I say to Danny, wiping blood from the corner of my mouth. Danny reaches down and picks up one of the vials, tossing it at me. I catch it and hold it up in the dim lighting.

"Look familiar?"

"MGH. Well, that explains his strongman routine."

Danny and I walk towards Bobbito. His eyes are still a bit glazed over. He's borderline concussed. I bend down and slap him across the face.

"Stay awake and tell us where you got this s*** and where we can find Victor?"
 
"Kids today," I say to Danny, wiping blood from the corner of my mouth. Danny reaches down and picks up one of the vials, tossing it at me. I catch it and hold it up in the dim lighting.

"Look familiar?"

"MGH. Well, that explains his strongman routine."

Danny and I walk towards Bobbito. His eyes are still a bit glazed over. He's borderline concussed. I bend down and slap him across the face.

"Stay awake and tell us where you got this s*** and where we can find Victor?"
Mutant Growth Hormone. There's almost nothing I'd rather see less making rounds on the streets. Drugs are bad enough. They destroy lives, they promote violence. But MGH? It's a whole different animal. Its users aren't just junkies, they're super junkies. MGH gives any punk on the street the power to go toe-to-toe with a metahuman. Because of its potential uses, the ability to create an army of meta-soldiers, it attracts dangerous types. I can only hope Luke and I caught it early.

"Unnghh..."

"Don't you play games, homeboy," Luke growls, delivering a sharp backhand to Bobbito's face. That one seems to rouse him fully. "Where'd you get this s***, Bobbito?"

"Pow-Powderkeg," Bobbito replies in his last fleeting moments of consciousness.

"You hear that?"

I nod. "Powderkeg." Nasty metahuman. I can't say I'm looking forward to this, but it has to be done. "We put the word out. Starting shaking down people from this neighborhood until someone gives us a lead to Powderkeg." I look down at Bobbito. "With any luck, we'll find Victor Alvarez, too."
 
danefaizahead.jpg

Vampire Nest under Greenwich Park
London, England


Dane barely managed to raise his shield in time to block a blow from Kas' fiery sword. The two of them engaged in heated swordplay for what seemed like hours but Dane knew was far closer to seconds, Dane breaking his rhythm momentarily now and then to deflect a blow from Kas' slow, lumbering earth golem. He looked past his own foes occasionally and saw Faiza doing much the same with her pair of golems, parrying, blocking, feinting, a riposte here countered by a turn there, and so on. He felt proud of how quickly she'd picked up what he was teaching her before a sizzling gash on his leg snapped him back to his own fight. He and Kas seemed evenly matched, but only until Dane started seeing the patterns in Kas' fighting style. He knew Kas was picking up on his own as well, so time was of the essence. Dane, noting how Kas dropped his shoulder and hunched forward to block with his buckler, forced the vampire into that position and struck high, slashing his shoulder and sending a trickle of red down his ashy brown arm. Dane smiled at Kas as the vampire's eyes flashed red, burning with indignation. The smile faded as Kas redoubled his efforts, using his vampiric speed to force Dane into a frenzy of blocks and parries that became increasingly sloppy as Dane struggled to keep pace. Finally, Dane barely managed to bring his shield up against Kas' sword before he realized he'd made a critical error and the golem sent him hurtling through the air.

"Ow," the Knight commented as he picked himself up. "Note to self: golems are really strong."

"Well, Knight?" Kas asked as he sauntered across the cave to Dane, golem in tow. "Where has all that bravado gone?"

"Oh, it's still there. It's just... you know, quieter now that you've got me outnumbered."

"Typical English cowardice. You crow and beat your chests when you've got the advantage, but as soon as the tide turns, you scurry back into your holes."

"Uh, last I checked, this was your hole, Kas. And for the last time, I'm American!" Dane tried another charge. Kas' speed was considerable, but so was Dane's skill, and now that he'd had a chance to see what the vampire could do, Dane was ready for him. He feinted high, as if going for a decapitation, and when Kas brought his fiery buckler up to block, Dane spun, slammed the sword in Kas' other hand aside, and buried the Ebony Blade deep into the vampire's midsection. Kas howled in fury, did something Dane thought he recalled Dr. Strange doing once with his hands, and suddenly a wall of absolutely nothing seemed to slam Dane across the room, ripping the Ebony Blade out of his grasp, leaving him unarmed.

"This has been great fun, but I'm afraid the time for play is over, sirrah Knight." As Kas spoke, the dozen vampires he'd summoned away began re-emerging from the cavern's shadowy corners, their eyes flickering to life like pinholes in the darkness. "My loyal followers. Even in this wretched state am I a leader of men--damned though we may be--and it is now my will that they--"

"Die?" a voice interrupted. "'Cause as long as I'm around, that's all you suckheads are good for." Blade burst out of the tunnel opposite the one Faiza and Dane had entered through like a demon, his sword flickering and flashing in the dim light, ash clinging to him.

"Wow," Dane said as he took the opportunity to return to his feet. "Awesome timing, Blade! Seriously, just wonderful."

"Quite lovely, yes!" Faiza agreed as Blade unholstered a sub-machine gun and tore through one of the golems attacking her like paper.

"Told Wisdom not to saddle me with your sorry asses on my hunt; but since you're here I figured I might as well keep you alive."

"Enough!" Kas bellowed. Everyone stopped and turned their attention to him. His dozen vampires were down to eight since Blade arrived, and of course he was also missing a golem. Blade, Dane, and Faiza watched as he pulled the Ebony Blade out of his torso. Its blade glistened with his blood. "You are all already dead." Kas' words dripped with fury, yet he remained outwardly calm. "Allow my associates to prove it to you," he said to Blade and Faiza before turning back to Dane. "The 'noble' Knight and I have business to conclude."

Everything in the cave that wasn't Kas himself turned its attention to Blade and Faiza.

"Hope you're ready for this, girl."

"Me too," Faiza admitted.

Dane's attention returned to Kas as he spoke. "A formidable weapon," he said as he walked toward the Knight examining the Ebony Blade. "You claimed it was magic. I can see that for myself now." Dane considered attempting an attack while Kas' attention was on the sword, but he knew he wouldn't get far unarmed. Damned sword; when he had it, all he wanted was to get rid of it, but now that it was in his enemy's hands, he desperately needed it back. "I can see the connection it has to you, sirrah Knight. Ethereal tendrils lacing between you and its remarkable blade. Not power, though, is it? No, they are dark, corrupted... a curse!" The vampire's eyes flashed briefly as he came to the realization. "And not just one. I can see more dark magic tethered to you; this time somehow familiar. Another cursed blade--vampiric in nature, is it not?"

"A little present from your ex-boss, if you must know. Listen, I already know all about my own curses, so if you're gonna kill me, could we just go ahead and move this along?"

Kas brought the point of the Ebony Blade up to within an inch of Dane's face and growled, "You are in no position to make demands, heathen! You will listen as long as I have more to say." He withdrew the Blade and went back to studying it. "Did I ever tell you that my master taught me the subtle secrets of curse magicks? It is how I'm able to recognize the signs of your blades' curses in you. He taught me to weave my own as well, if I so desired... or, indeed, to manipulate existing ones." He passed a hand over the sword's obsidian blade and Dane felt a pulse in his mind. Another pass and the muted, ever-present voice of the Blade in Dane's mind swelled to a fever pitch before receding again.

"No!" Dane gasped. He clutched at his head as if he could somehow claw the voice out. "You can't!"

Another wave of Kas' hand and the Ebony Blade's taint pounded in Dane's mind like a wild river overflowing its banks. Next, Kas appeared to pluck at something in the air and a new voice joined the Ebony Blade's in a chorus of screaming agony within Dane's head. Dane collapsed to his knees and covered his head with his arms. He looked up at Kas, tears welling in his eyes. "Please." Pride had fled the Knight under the magnified onslaught of both cursed swords' corruption. "Don't d-do this!"

Kas leaned forward and smiled, his face inches from the Knight's. "It is already done," he sneered.

Kas shoved the Ebony Blade back into Dane's hands and, upon contact with the sword itself, Dane howled as the mental dam holding its poisoned filth in check burst. He dropped the sword but it was too late. Pain and agony and profanity of every kind intermingled within Dane's mind. As he closed his eyes, he saw Kas' mouth moving but could not make out the words. The whole cave fell into silence as the din in his head overwhelmed him.
 
AmazingSpidermanlogo-1.png


Okay, that was lame. I can't believe I was taken out by an eighteen year-old girl and her overgrown house cat. I don't care what her last name was. That was sloppy. And now I'm... wait, where am I? Hard-packed dirt beneath my face, waves of heat rolling over my body, vaguely air freshener-y smell. Am I in the jungle?

No. Not the jungle... the Savage Land.

I've been here before, but even if I hadn't, this place is unmistakable. Which only begs the question, how long was I out, exactly? For little Miss Kravinoff to drag me all the way to Antarctica, and for what? A cursory check of my limbs shows no injuries, save for the slash on my side where Blondie's poisoned spear caught me. She had me unconscious and defenseless all that time, and she didn't finish me?

She's a Kravinoff, Pete. It's a game.

Okay, so what now? I've been drugged and dragged halfway around the world, only to be unceremoniously dumped alone in the middle of the world's most dangerous jungle. Is Kraven, Jr. hoping some feral tiger finishes me off or something? No, with the Kravinoff family, it's never that simple. I check my webshooters. Completely full. I have that much to be thankful for, at least.

You're rousing. Good.

I nearly jump out of my skin as the voice echoes in my head. Moments later, the astral form of Madame Web appears before my very eyes. And the day only continues to grow stranger...

"Madame Web? What's going on?" I ask, a bit stupidly.

The Kravinoff family is out for revenge, she explains telepathically. I know Professor X insists otherwise, but you never really get used to hearing someone else's voice inside your head. Sergei and Vladimir Kravinoff have been resurrected through rituals of blood magic.

Blood magic? Great.

You and four others have been brought to the Savage Land to participate in this latest hunt.

I furrow my brow. "Four others?"

Yes. The Kravinoffs have marked all spiders for death.

"Who else is here?"

I... cannot say. The distance is putting a strain on my powers, and the visions are unclear, Madame Web replies. But you must find the other spiders before the Kravinoffs do.

"Thanks."

One last thing: the Sergei Kravinoff who rose from the grave is not the same man who entered it. You would be wise to approach him cautiously.

And just like that, it's back to only my thoughts bouncing around inside my skull. Whoever these other "spiders" are, they better be able to fend for themselves because I'm not entirely sure I can get myself out of here alive - let alone four other people. Nor do I even know how to find them. The Savage Land is huge, and I'll have to fight my way through not only the Kravinoffs but also the native wildlife, who aren't too big on outsiders.

I'm getting a migraine already.
 
danefaizahead.jpg

Vampire Nest under Greenwich Park
London, England


Dane Whitman was in trouble and he knew it. The ex-Avenger struggled intensely under the magic assault on his mind, but it was no use; whatever Kas had done had rocketed the influence of both the Ebony Blade and its vampiric copy off the charts. They sang in his mind like a chorus of the most beautiful mayhem ever conceived, spoke to the Knight of the wondrous joys of destruction and mutilation, purred sweet symphonies of death and disgrace.

It was all Dane could do not to lose himself in the torrent of the blades' siren song completely, but he simply refused to give up. He was a man committed to science whose life had become a playground for malevolent magic forces, yet he learned to cope and eventually came to thrive in that atmosphere. He had been shot through time and across dimensions, yet he'd always found his way home. He had been tempted, threatened, tainted, tortured, and otherwise tormented, yet he persevered and remained true to himself. He thought of Faiza and her words as they waited outside the nest--God, had it been only an hour or two ago? Her voice called to him, a sweet, gentle caress contradicting the blades' filth. He was a good man, a hero, no matter what the blades claimed. He denied them. He refused their power. He would not give up.

Dane struggled and fought and eventually he could feel himself regaining some measure of control. His body was responding to his thoughts again. Slowly, painfully, he forced his eyes back open. They were bloodshot--nearly as red as Kas'--and when they surveyed the room and locked onto the vampire, they became filled with rage. He wanted nothing more than to kill Kaseem Farouq Abd as-Salam. He knew it was the blades' bloodlust overtaking him, but at the moment he didn't care; in fact, he appreciated that for once the blades' wishes and his own were in agreement. That should have been his first clue, but he was too far gone to recognize it.

Dane snatched the Ebony Blade from where he'd dropped it and leaped up, his feet driving him forward like a tank fueled solely by hate. The vampire was on the other side of the cave with Faiza and Blade. Only he and one golem remained; Dane's teammates had evened the playing field. Kas was forced to conjure another sword and join the fray himself again. "Dumb bastard," Dane thought groggily, "should've killed me when he had the chance." Indeed, the fact that Kas hadn't killed him flashed through Dane's mind as a genuine, confounding oddity--but it was fleeting; the irresistible currents of rage washed it away scarcely after it had appeared. If he could have held onto the thought, it would have been his second clue.

"--just wish they'd die already!" Dane caught the tail end of Kas' sentence as he came upon the vampire's ongoing battle with Dane's teammates.

"Look at that, Kas: finally, something we agree on!" Dane slashed wildly for Kas' head.

The vampire turned and his eyes locked on Dane just long enough to register shock before he ducked out of the Blade's way. "What--?" was all Kas could utter before Dane was on him like a tornado.

Dane was surprised to find that Kas had changed up his fighting style and was blocking Dane's slashes more ably now. Kas wasn't attacking, though; Dane attributed it to the fury of his onslaught. The vampire just couldn't keep up. Oddly, it almost seemed to Dane like Kas had adapted some of his own moves, though they were less polished. "Copying my style, Kas?" Dane grunted and shook his head, trying to clear the haze of mindless anger and focus on the fight. "I should sue you for plagiarism!" Kas opened his mouth, but Dane interrupted: "Save the witty retort; I'll just kill you instead, you son of a b****!" He renewed his assault, deftly swatting Kas' sword aside and pressing his own blows on the vampire's defenses. The blades' torment receded slightly as he continued, as if they recognized that he was trying to fulfill their wishes and granted him more focus to achieve that goal. Dane almost didn't need it; Kas' swordplay was getting sloppier now. Must be tiring him out, Dane thought. Something flashed in the back of his mind--something claiming that didn't make sense, Kas was a vampire, vampires didn't tire--but Dane was too busy battering through Kas' defenses to listen.

Dane glanced to his right; Kas' last remaining golem seemed to be trying to push its way through to... what? Protect its master? Had Kas magically programmed that level of loyalty into the things? It was irrelevant; Blade lumbered into the golem's path and brutally rammed it back into a wall, where it clutched at its side in pain. Something about that struck Dane as odd. Clue number three, if the Knight were able to pick up on it. Unfortunately, what little of his mind remained was laser-focused on other matters.

Finally, his focus paid off. One last, hard slash broke through Kas' defense, sending his fiery sword clattering across the cavern's floor. Dane followed with a series of quick, controlled cuts--one to a thigh, one to a calf, one to each arm--and Kas issued a shrill, satisfying yelp of pain. Another couple of cuts to the vampire's legs brought him crashing down onto his back. Dane planted his boot on Kas' torso and raised the Ebony Blade, ready to finally give in and let it taste the blood it so craved.

Off to the Knight's right, that golem had recovered and renewed its assault on Blade. Faiza stood opposite them on Dane's left, hungrily waiting for Dane to deliver the finishing blow to Kas. The ferocity in her eyes disturbed Dane... but, at this point, who was he to complain about reveling in the heat of battle? He had to admit that it felt good crushing his opponent's diaphragm under his boot heel, readying himself to deliver the killing blow. The triumphant conqueror basking in the glory of his victory.

Some small part of him seemed to cry out his name, telling him to stop, that this was wrong. The hero in me, I guess, he thought bitterly, knowing there was no going back to that after what Kas had done to him. Still, the voice persisted. Off to his right, a flurry of motion--Blade threw a punch at the golem's head, but the golem ducked under it. Were they always so fast? Dane wondered.

Suddenly, the golem's hand shot out and sharp earthen daggers flew from its fist. Dane watched in horror as they tore through Blade's chest and the vampire hunter staggered, then collapsed in a heap before the golem. "ERIC!" the Knight yelled. He almost never used Blade's real name, but it was the only thing flashing through his mind right now. The Knight's eyes grew wide as he watched the life flow out of Blade. "No," he whispered hoarsely. "This is wrong." His eyes fixed on the golem and narrowed in anger. "He deserved better than this! Better than YOU!" He started toward the golem, but Faiza's hand shot out.

"Finish Kas," said the love of Dane's life, "this soulless wanker is mine!" She leaped at Blade, Excalibur flashing through the air. "This is for my friend, you unnatural bastard!" She was terrifying in her fury.

"Whitman!" the voice in the back of Dane's head called. "Stop!"

Go away, Dane thought as he raised the Ebony Blade once again.

It wouldn't, though. "--Got it wrong," the voice called. Oddly, it seemed to be coming from the golem. Dane looked at the creature, confused. Faiza pressed on with a fury and skill Dane didn't know she had, but the golem was holding its own. This one was nowhere near as sluggish as its fallen compatriots. It had speed and guile, ducking and dodging Faz's blows as often as blocking them with a sword it had somehow gotten ahold of.

Well, it would have to be better than the others, Dane reasoned, to take down Blade. He wasn't sure why Kas had made one golem better than the rest. Or where it had learned to wield a sword so deftly. It was more than just guile, Dane noticed as he watched it spar with Faiza. It had... technique? That didn't make sense. The more Dane thought about it, very little that had transpired in the last few minutes made sense. Things weren't adding up. Something was happening... but what? His mind strained, but the blades' din was rising again and he couldn't think things through coherently.

A hole opened in the golem's face. "Whitman!" it screamed desperately. How did it know his name? Kas must have told it. Why would Kas care whether it knew his name? "Stop! He's messin' with your mind! You have to stop!" The words tumbled out of the hole in the golem's face, clear as day now. "Whitman, it's me, Eric! Look at what you're doing! That's not Kas, it's FAIZA!"

The hole in the golem's face contracted, then the creature's entire body exploded in what seemed like a shower of glass. In its place stood Blade, whole and (relatively) unharmed. Certainly not laying in a pool of his own blood on the floor. Dane looked at what he thought was Blade's corpse. It shattered as well, revealing the golem's twisted, crumbling form, four holes punched neatly through its chest. 'Faiza' stopped her assault on the golem--no, Blade now--and cursed something in ancient Arabic. Her beautiful face cracked, splintered, and then exploded like the others' glamours, revealing Kas' furious visage. 'Excalibur' revealed itself to be no more than the fiery sword Kas had conjured earlier.

Dane looked from the golem to Blade to Kas and realization slowly crept into his mind. His mind was dragging his eyes down toward his feet but his heart resisted, fearful of what it knew he'd find there. Finally, his mind won out. His eyes drifted down to Kas' face. His dark lips cracked into a smile, then a laugh, then exploded into a scream whose pitch was too high as the glamour parted and Faiza lay before Dane, bleeding, bruised and terrified.

"Oh God," Dane whispered as the last pieces of the puzzle fell into place in his broken mind. "What have I done?" His eyes brushed over his boot, still on Faiza's stomach, and he snatched his leg back like he'd stepped in molten lava. "I'm sorry!" His voice cracked as he said the word that he knew was miles--light years--short of anything approaching good enough. Nothing would ever be good enough to come back from this.

"Dane," Faiza's voice was strangled with pain--pain Dane himself had caused her.

God, I've practically cut her to ribbons! What have I done?!

"It's... s'not your f... fault."

"No," Dane shook his head. "No, no, no--"

"--didn't know..." she continued.

"NO!" Dane turned and ran.

"Dane--!" Faiza called weakly.

"Yes, 'Dane!'" Kas called after the Knight, his voice a mocking falsetto. "Oh, Daaaaane! Come back, you have unfinished business here! You've yet to strike her pretty little head from her pretty little shoulders!" Kas' laughter filled the cavern, echoing behind Dane as he ran back into the tunnel. The last thing he heard was the choked rattle as Blade's stake pierced the vampire's heart, turning him to ash.

"STRIDER!" Dane called as he burst out of the nest's entrance. The horse was at his side instantly. He mounted as tears welled in his eyes and flew off, never looking back.

Back in the cave, Blade lifted Faiza gingerly. "S'gonna be all right, girl. Everything's gonna be all right."

Faiza wasn't listening. Her mind was clouded, unable to focus. "Dane," she repeated. One thought bobbed on the surface like a beacon, eclipsing all else with its urgency: "I... forgive you..." Her eyes fluttered shut as the last embers of consciousness flickered out and her mind passed into blackness.
 
Last edited:

Users who are viewing this thread

Staff online

Latest posts

Forum statistics

Threads
201,047
Messages
21,886,643
Members
45,689
Latest member
gwenellis
Back
Top
monitoring_string = "afb8e5d7348ab9e99f73cba908f10802"