RKMBs Forums .::Important::. Writer's Block HR#14 Obsidian Illumination 2: Smith's revenge

Naecken stared with great amusement at the massive doors. "Saros, bring me the amulet." Saros did as commanded, handing Naecken the amulet, then stepping back away from the composite demon. "Ladies, bring me the angel." Several of the female Annunaki then stepped forth, Tayden, held not entirely against his will, by their firm but tender embraces. "Master, must you kill him? He is so pretty. May we not play with him for a while longer?" One of the women asked.

"No, it is time. Place him on the altar." The women placed Tayden on a large, flat slab of ice. The angel's expression never changed. "It'll never work, you know. He won't allow it." he said as the women tied him down.

"Won't allow what? Your murder?" Naecken asked, leaning into the angel's face, his breath like a furnace.

"No, Hell on Earth." Tayden responded lackadaisically. "Breath mint? I think I have one in my left pocket."

*******************

"Okay, comrade, I am picking you up, you are turning to steel, then I am throwing you through the robot! Is good plan, da?" Blackwulf asked the skinny meta with wild hair.

"Sounds good to me!" Spike the Human Lawndart, star of his own show on MetaTV responded, lighting a cigarette.

"Ok, we are going!" Blackwulf jerked Spike up off the ground, causing his cigarette to fall out of his mouth. "Hey, wait!" Spike instantly shifted his skin to metal form as Blackwulf tossed him into the nearest T5 droid.

Spike impacted into the droid, knocking it over onto it's back, his body sticking halfway out of it. "Blackwulf? Pull me out, man! Blackwulf?" Spike's legs kicked frantically as he waited for the B Teamer to retrieve him.

"Is being very good plan! Now where is being comrade Lucha?" Blackwulf wandered around the battlefield, leaving Spike halfway inside the robot.

*************************

"How easy it is, to slip away from their so called vigilance." Mr. Smith pondered to himself, watching the battle from a point near Naecken's fortress. He held up a small neural inhibitor on his left hand. "With the chaos that one is capable of, I could grow very strong indeed." Smith smiled as Amuck severed the head of Ishkur.

*****************

"Naecken, stop this foolishness." A familiar voice projected through the chamber as Naecken prepared to plunge the dagger into Tayden's heart. "Who dares??!" Naecken screamed in rage.

"I dare." Turkish Stringfellow stepped out of the shadows.

"What?! How. . ." Mick was too flabbergasted to finish his thought.

"Turkish?" Naecken was momentarily taken aback by the surprise appearance of the Prophet. "Is it really you?" Naecken began to turn away from the angel.

**************************

"Do you think this will fool him for long?" Kristogar Velo asked, peaking out from behind a large ice stalagtite.

"Don't know. . .but if we can lure him away from Tayden. . .we may have a shot. . ." Phil Smith answered, sweat beginning to pour down his face, as he strained to maintain the mental illusion. "Never done. . .this before. . .you know. . .?"

"Of course, old friend..." Turkish began. "...I could not sit idly by while you bring the world to the brink of destruction..."

Naecken stared at the person before him, his eyes having grown a bit softer, now. The dagger in his palm slowly lowered, turning away as he did from Tayden. He took a few steps forward, the tall man pacing a bit before him.

"...you understand...don't you?" the dark lord said, his voice rasping with the faint hint of emotion. "You see what has to happen....you must!"

"All I see is a good man...a good friend...having traveled the shadowed path for far too long..."

Naecken stared at the man, almost mesmerized. For a very odd, very strange, and, quite unknown reason, Naecken felt a deep affection for this man. This Prophet. Whether it was something of a kindrid nature, or, just the similarities in their experiences, Naecken had always considered Turkish a close ally.

A friend.

And, it was this understanding that Phil Smith played upon. Even as Velo crept along the outer rim of the massive cathedral-like chamber, ducking from pylon to pylon, Naecken's complete attention continued to be enthralled by this encounter.

"...things can be different, Naecken..." Turkish said, as Phil sensed the hesitation beginning to boil within. "...you can be different..."

Naecken's eyes dropped, staring at the ground with a bewildered confusion.

A glimmer of hope. That's all Tayden could find. Just the barest sliver.

But, it was all he needed, as the ex-seraphim continued to pump Holy 'light' into the dark being's corrupted soul. Trying to soothe the demon. Trying to calm the beast.

Tayden and Phil's 'meta-mojo' sufficiently distracting Naecken, Velo's hands rose from behind the altar. The attendants, as with everyone in the room, continued to stare at Naecken's confrontation.

A single-lensed laser-scalpel slipped from Velo's cuffs, sliding into nimble fingers. Still crouched down behind the altar, Kristogar worked the ruby-red beam over thick cast-iron shackles; the nigh-enchanted metal taking marginally longer to cut through.

"...I...I tried to...tried to fight...." Naecken said, still staring at the ground.

"I know, Naecken, I know..." Turkish nodded. "...I can sense great confusion within you..."

And with those words, Naecken's eyes suddenly grew very, very cold...

"....you..." Naecken began, his voice a dark, deep bellow. "...what..."

His head slowly began to raise eye-level...

"...shit..." Phil whispered.

"...shit..." Tayden muttered.

"...shit..." Velo said, working hard on the second clamp.

"...shit..." Mick sighed.

Naecken suddenly roared, his voice howling up the audible range of sound. The ice altar began to spider-web with cracks. The fortress trembled. The air was alive with the raging fury of a demon lord.

And Turkish...given Phil's immediate seizure from the neural backlash....vanished, just as quietly as he had appeared.

"The TRUE Prophet could NEVER sense anything about me!!" Naecken roared. "LIES!! ALL LIES!!"

...and, with that, he turned, driving the dagger straight into Tayden's chest...

"NOOO!!!" Velo yelled, immediately launching himself over the altar. Tackling Naecken, the two figures hit the ground in a tumble.

Tayden's teeth gritted from the pain, as the blood of the seraphim flowed freely from the still embedded blade.

And, the gates of Hell.....began to rumble open....

****************

Two androids exploded from the fury of Arges, even as the cyclops turned to finish a third. But he, as with all members of the Pantheon, suddenly paused...

"...the door..." Aeolus breathed, the shattered remains of Nabu at his feet.

"...it opens..." Arges finished, the two gods looking away.

...it opens... Echo's power repeated, even as she held a small mirror towards her unmoving mouth.

A fierce wind suddenly came upon them, as the Pantheon gathered together...

...it opens...

There was a sudden flare of lightning, and, they were gone...

...it opens...

*************

Further across the battlefield, near the fortress itself, a hellish bike roared a path of carnage through anyone, or, anything in its path. A thick wrist quickly flexed, reving the engines louder, as a spark of light flickered in driven eyes...

"...innocent blood has been shed..."

*************

Naecken's grip on Velo's throat was impossible, and decisive. The massive roar of the gradually swinging doors shook the chamber with a cacophony of screams and laughter...

"No more games, Kristogar!" he yelled above the din. "No more battles!"

Velo's crimson-red face was beginning to turn purple, his feet dangling a good three feet off the ground. Tayden's face had become quite pale, the pool of blood surrounding the dagger setting with an uneasy calmness.

"NAECKEN STOP, DAMN YOU!! STOP!!" Mick yelled with all his might, his voice beginning to grow raspy from exhaustion.

"NO!!" he screamed. "I HAVE WON!!"

A dark laughter began to erupt from his massive chest...

"MY ARMY COMES!!"

Lighting suddenly ripped throughout the chamber, a fierce gale picking up immediately. A sudden photo-flash of light and thunder, and the Pantheon stood before him.

Immediately, every one of them jumped at the door, slamming mighty palms against the creaking armageddon.

"What....what is THIS?!!" Naecken screamed. He was almost baffled at the sudden intrusion of power.

He tossed Velo aside, his attention totally diverted...

"PUSH!" Aeolus barked, the gods using their nigh-infinite power, trying to hold the doors at bay. "WE CANNOT LET IT OPEN!!"

"Ha!" Naecken huffed, headed towards them with a determined stride, realizing that the Pantheon would not be able to defend themselves. "Tell me....do gods bleed?"

He reached out towards the group.... just as the main wall of the chamber suddenly exploded!

"VENGEANCE IS MINE!!" the grating roar echoed throughout the chamber.

Naecken turned just in time to see Vengeance leap from his bike, diving at the dark lord with a writhing blade of flame...

"GAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!" Master Beta screamed as he shot off a wad of white, sticky goop from his right hand at two robots. Completely spent after the shot, he slunk down to the ground and watched as the goop gummed up the robots' mechanisms and stuck them together. "Whew... oh, that felt good..." Master Beta muttered to himself, "...but the guilt... the guilt..."

Larry Lance, phasing through a nearby robot which lunged at him, then giving it a kick from behind into the snow, passed by and said, "Hey, good work, kid!"

"Thanks," Master Beta said, a slight embarrassed smile on his flushed face.

Larry sniffed in the air as he passed the two robots that Beta had downed. "Ewww... what is that smell...?"

Suddenly, with a CRACK!, the goop connecting the two robots (which had already frozen in the sub-zero chill) broke apart, and the huge T5-bots came at the two metas.

Master Beta: "Ohhh..."

Larry Lance: "...CRAAAPP!!!"

Several metres away (or several feet--who cares, really?), a young man named Cobb saw the two metahumans in trouble, and he did what just came naturally to him, the talent that had given him the well-deserved name of Head-Fall-Off Boy:

Larry Lance thought he heard a whistling through the air, accompanied by someone... screaming...?

".....aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

SMASH!

Annikin Cobb's Head of Steel™ completely destroyed the two robots as it smashed through them at a high velocity... but unfortunately it just kept on going, and going, and going...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...."

Master Beta: "Damn."

*************

Head-Fall-Off Boy: "crap! crap! crap! crap! crap! crap! crap! crap! crap! crap! crap! crap! crap! crap! crap! crap! crap! crap! crap!"

Thunk!

Head-Fall-Off Boy: "'Thunk!'?!?"

"Hi there."

Cobb heard a sultry woman's voice say those words to him and felt his Head of Steel™ being held by soft, gloved hands. Hands which turned him around to face... her.

Head-Fall-Off Boy: "Ohh... uh... hi..."

*THUD!*

As he tried to figure out how his head made that noise without hitting anything, Cobb found himself falling in love with the redheaded vision of beauty carrying him back towards his body, only to find two identical women flying next to her.

Head-Fall-Off Boy: "Homina-homina-homina... WOW! There's THREE of you! Is this my lucky day, or what?!?"

"My name's Trinity," all three women said in unison.

Head-Fall-Off Boy: "Huh? Which one of you is Trinity, again?"

"I am," all three of them said in unison, laughing. Finally, after a moment of confusion, the one holding his Head of Steel™ smiled and said to him by herself: "I get that a lot. The concept of 'one soul in three bodies' is a bit hard to grasp."

Head-Fall-Off Boy: "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh... OK, I get it -- you're like Triplicate Girl, right? Or is that Triad? Can never remember..."

"Sort of," Trinity replied as she landed next to Larry Lance and Master Beta while her other two bodies retrieved Cobb's headless body.

Larry Lance: "Wow."

Master Beta: "Uhhh... I gotta go find a bathroom..."

Larry Lance: "I don't remember seeing you girls on either the Stormloader or the E.P.S. ship. Where'd you come from?"

Trinity placed Cobb's Head of Steel™ into his own arms, allowing him to put it back into place. She (they?) turned and replied, "I have my own means of transport."

Head-Fall-Off Boy: "Are you people thinking what I'm thinking? Huh? Huh? Three guys? Three girls?"

Larry Lance: "We're in the middle of Antarctica, Cobb."

Head-Fall-Off Boy: "I'm just sayin'... hey, when did you become 'Mister Mature' all of a sudden, anyway?"

Larry Lance rolled his eyes and said to Trinity, "But who--? Where--?"

Trinity took to the air in unison and said, "I'm Trinity -- a friend of your teammates Sonia and Ameristar, and your sometime-ally Crasher, Larry Lance. Sorry, but the battle's still raging. Maybe I'll see you again some other time, okay?"

Larry Lance: "Sure... sure thing... *sigh"... I think I'm in love..."

Head-Fall-Off Boy: "Hey!"

Larry Lance: "What?"

Head-Fall-Off Boy: "I saw them -- her -- them first!"

Larry Lance: "There's a time and place for everything, young Cobb, but this is not the time. Now where did that videotape guy go?"

Head-Fall-Off Boy: "Master Beta? He's probably made himself blind by now."

Larry Lance: "Huh?"

Head-Fall-Off Boy: "The snow. You know, all this white, blinding snow around us? Hell on the eyes."

Larry Lance: "Oh, right..."

Head-Fall-Off Boy: "What did you think I meant?"

Larry Lance: "Nothing." He rolled his eyes and muttered to himself, "'Master Beta'? What a lame joke..."

The battleground.

A mayhem like this the Antarctic has never seen since the first time snow fell over this ground.

The ice is on fire. The snow is red with the blood of many humans and metahumans. Strikeforce 1 disks cross the sky exchanging fire with flying T5 droids: for each robot destroyed, ten more take flight. On the ground, hundreds are the droids disabled, but tens of thousands are the one still active.

And if the fallen among the alliance of metas are just a dozen among a hundred arrived, that's just because basically the robots don't care about the humans. Just a few thousands of them are responding to the attack. The other hundreds of thousands are just flowing out of the mountain, to gather on the border of the ocean. And then, stopping, apparently waiting for something to happen.

*******************************

"What are they waiting for, Flash?" asks one meta, his polar gear showing the silver and grey colours of the Strikeforce, while destroying with his bare fist one of the T5 drones.

"Who fucking cares, Freehand?" responds the other Strikeforcers, stopping two more robots with a burst of photon blast. "They are gonna fuck us all in the ass. we are gonna die. We are walking dead right now."

"They are like bees, I tell you! My grandpa had honeybees in his farm" says a third Strikeforce 1 agent. From his eyes fires laser beams, that cuts through the vanadium steel of the robots like it's butter. "When they swarm, they leave the hive and land nearby, one after the other. And there they gather, waiting for the queen bee. Just when she arrive to guide them, they leave all together!"

"Good work!" yells the field leader of the small team. "And good theory, Fireworks. So you think they are waiting for their Queen bee?"

"Yes, Director. I suppose they are waiting for Naecken. It would be just logical, no?"

Suddenly, just from the other side of a wall of ice, comes the cry of a man. Then, over the top appears a fifth Strikeforcers, a female, bleeding from a deep wound on the right shoulder.

"Dreamweaver, what happened? asks Director, alarmed.

"The illusion I... casted... worn off. I... can't... contain.... them" whispers the woman, and then her head falls down, face on the ground. Just a second passes, and a hundred of foot soldiers appears over the walls, firing with laser guns and magnetic blasters, overwhelming the remaining Strikeforcers.

*********************************

"Nobody will gonna find us here!" says Freehand, pressing his both hands over the large wound on his left knee, to try to halt the loss of blood.

"We'll... die... here..." whispers Director, lying on his back half submersed by the snow, that has begun to fall heavily from the low grey clouds that has quickly covered the sky.

"The magnetic blaster have silenced all of our trackers. Shit, there is no way they can spot us in this nothingness."

Then, the roar of a snowcat is heard approaching, and soon two man, one with the Strikeforce gear, and a red cross sign, the other with the simpler gear furnished by the EPS, appear.

"Thank God, you found us" says the Director, closing his eyes, finally conceding himself to faint.

"It's impossible you found us... here!" wonders Freehand, while the medical staff member of the Strikeforce attends to him. "Nobody could locate someone in... in this hell!"

"Not for someone with my nose" winks the one in the EPS parka.

***************************************

A few kilometres away, inside the EPS carrier, three men obseves the battle.

"Mr. Tweed, how is the recognition?"

"Completed, Mr. Walker. All the metahumans on the battleground have been catalogued."

"Excellent, Mr. Tweed. Now, Mr. Turner, could you put a stop to this grotesque show?"

"With pleasure, Mr. Walker."

The ex-MCCA agent eyes close in concentration. The sky blackens, the snow stop to fall. Turner's open his eyes, than now glows of white fire. A loud, cracking thunder shakes the ground, and thousands of lighting fall from the sky, hitting all the robots on the battleground, reverberating from one to the other.

"Remarkable achievement, Mr. Turner."

All the quarter million robots are on the ground, completely disabled.

*****************************************************

On the battlefield cries of joy are heard everywhere, when the ground begins to tremble, and a loud, booming noise seems to come from the deep of the earth.

Then, the ice begins to crack, and the soil shakes violently. The snow vaporize, and from an enormous crater just formed at the foot of the artificial mountain, a huge form appears. Metallic yet clearly biological, alive yet unquestionably cybernetic, something resembling a mantis, with dozens of legs and many wings heads toward the surface. As the clouds dissipates, the just reappeared sun makes the surface of the thing glowing like quicksilver, and sends its shadow to obscure the battleground and the dozens of metas and norms that has survived.

Because T5, when it reaches the surface, stands over the ground from an height of 300 hundred meters, as tall as the Eiffel tower.

Walker looks at the exhausted form of Turner, and raises an eyebrow.

Not very far, Adem Different narrow his eyes, to watch the towering behemoth toward the sun. "Just one more" he whispers, and smile, before returning to his battle with the Annunaki.

Utu pulled himself up from the ground. The emergence of the T5 Motherbot, so to speak, had shaken many of this battles combatants to the ground. He eyed his opponent a few feet away.

Adem Different also scrambled to his feet. He had to get to the T5 robot quickly. Yet, he was trapped by the alien warrior coming up to him. As he tried to run, snow and ice exploded next to him, tossing him, yet again, to the ground. He turned to see Utu walking towards him with the barrel of his energy weapon in his hands. Steam that was once snow wafted into the air from his barrel.

"The battle ends here for you, strange one," the warrior gloated as his raised his gun in aim.

"Awwwwwwwwwww......! This is just disgusting!" Spike the Human Lawndart said as his head portruded from Utu's torso.

"Is being perfect shot!" Blackwulf yelled from atop a snowdrift man yards away.

The suit around Different changed once again. Now it was back to the anti-grav suit that he had originally created. His body shot into the air and towards the T5 robot.

"Battle is going well, comrade Spike. You are coming in most useful." Blackwulf said, lifting Utu's corpse off the Human Lawndart. "Maybe be asking comrade Monkey Boy to recruit you when he shows up again."

"The fight's going well, Head Fall Off Boy, we'll rendezvous with Drag Racer here. . ." Otto and HFA Boy walked around the side of a snowdrift and came face to face Wulf and Spike.

"Comrade Otto! Is being pleasure to see you again!" the mighty Russian scooped the bear man up in a hug that lifted him off his feet.

"Err, hello, Blackwulf, you're crushing my ribs." Otto said, experiencing quite a bit of discomfort.

Drag Racer arrived at about that time, closely followed by the smitten Luchadore. "Do you know how hard it is to stop in these shoes on the snow? And I've got another run in my stockings! And he won't stop following me around!" Drag Racer said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the Luchadore.

"A house. . .kids. . .a car. . .a cat. . .no, a dog. A big, fluffy dog . . ." The Luchadore mumbled, staring at Drag Racer.

"Comrade, Otto, you are no telling me you are having such lovely female in your acquaintance." Blackwulf began to take Drag Racer's hand.

"Uh, Wulf, there's something you need to know about Drag Racer. . ." Otto leaned up and whispered in the purple giant's ear. "Oh, hell no. . ." Blackwulf said, his accent noticeably absent as his everpresent smile faded away.

"Uh, comrade Lucha, is something I am needing to tell you. . ." Blackwulf put his arm around the Luchadore and began to lead him away. "Comrade Drag Racer no bear puppies. . ." he began.

"Whoahoahahoahhoahoahaohaohaohoahaohaohoahaoh" Johnny Bates screamed as he came out of his tornado spin and slammed right into the newly arrived Master Beta. Master Beta, upon being slammed into, immediately fired off an involuntary burst of his trademarked white goop, blasting Johnny right in the eyes. "Aaaaahhhhh! That crap hit me in the eyes!" Johnny screamed, throwing snow in his face in an attempt to get the goo off.

"Yeah, I hate it when that happens." Drag Racer said to himself.

"What?!" everyone said in unison, looking at the crossdressing speedster.

"Uh, nothing."

"Wow! That's pretty amazing," Norman Abbott said. His hands still glowed purple with the photon energy that they generate and expel.

"Clearly impossible," Dr. Walter B. Appleby replied, powering down his earth manipulating abilities.

"What do you mean?" Norman asked him.

"Mathematically speaking," the university professor began lecturing, "the simple growth of an insect to gigantic proportions is impossible. The legs would be unable to sustain the mass of the creature. They would crumble on its own we......!"

A giant metal leg squashed the man in a scenario that was ironic on many levels.

T5 drones in the forms of space age tanks rolled out onto the battle field. Strikeforce disks were destroyed by high powered energy cannons as the ships attempted strafing maneuvers. The air became filled with black smoke and flames. Surviving disks carried on and were able to take out some of their opposing force as well.

Metas engaged in combat everywhere. Land and air. The T5 bots as well as the mother unit attacked in both arenas. A weird liquid spewed forth from its insect like beak and covered everything directly in front of it. A drone fired a blast, igniting it. Snow melted under the heat and metas tried to run from the pain of their own burning flesh.

Some T5 bots found themselves being surrounded by large groups of meta fighters. Concentrating all of their powers into simultaneous attacks, the machines were shattered and destroyed. Losses were beginning to get heavy on both sides.

Adem Different did his best to weave and bob between fights and blasts as he flew closer and closer to his target. Problem was, he could only see one way in.

The alien reached out and seized a human sized T5 bot as it flew across his path. Bearing down with all his strength, Different pulled it along. The machine was stronger, though; so Adem had to work fast. His speed doubled as he aimed towards the opening beak of the motherbot. His mind had to time his next mover perfectly, or he might end up a gooey blotch on the inside of this machine's mouth.

The beak opened enough for him and his mechanical captive to enter. Different commanded his suit to stop, bringing him to a dead halt. His grip against the robot was broken as its momentum propelled it forward and down the throat of the beast. It clanked and clunk awkwardly several times before finally coming to a rest, lodged in the pathway of the strange fluid that was currently making its way up and out.

Adem didn't have time to allow his nanites to make and opening for him. He pulled away at the metal roof of the mouth as the tiny robotic organisms did their best to weaken the barrier. Enough had been peeled away to allow him through.

What little fluid that seeped by the blockage barely exited the beak of the massive robotic creature. The fluid almost appeared as drool coming out of the mouth of a patient of a failed brain surgery. "Is reminding me of good friend," Blackwulf was heard to comment.

Grimm looked around at the T5 motherdrone, now leading the T5 bots in their attacks.

"Crap."

He looked around again and saw the human footsoldiers storming the battlefield.

"Rose, who are these guys and where the hell did they come from?"

"These are the humans held captive by Naecken when he took over the base. We have to free them." Rose answered back on the mental link.

"Crap! Ok, somebody get on that."

"We're on it." an unknown voice answered along the mental link.

Who the hell was that? Grimm thought to himself. At that moment, another loud rumbling was heard from Naecken's fortress

"It's begun!" Aelous' voice sounded on the link.

"What's begun? What? What?!" Grimm asked.

"The portal to hell! It's open!"

and with those words, the demon army of Lord Kwaiziel poured forth from the open entrance to Naecken's fortress.

"CRAP!" Grimm said again.

"Grimm, are you gonna do something, or just stand there and yell "crap!" all day?!" Phil said over the link.

"Oh, I'm gonna do something, all right. . ." Grimm pulled his axe out of the scabbard and charged forth into the oncoming army. "Vanguard!. . .GET 'EM!"

"Greem is no being one for long speeches." Blackwulf said before jumping into the fray.

*********************

Vengeance slammed into Naecken full force, knocking him to the floor. Vengeance's bike hit the ground running and rammed into one of Naecken's demons. Not stopping, the bike encircled the two inhuman combatants, preventing any demons from aiding their master. Kristogar held a hand to his throat as he struggled to regain his breath. Phil Smith fired round after round into the oncoming fiends, not really accomplishing much. "Dammit. . .this wasn't part of the plan. . " he said to himself.

"Worry not, small one!" A large arm blasted several of the demons back with a swipe of a huge hammer. "The Pantheon still stands." Arges took another swipe with his mighty axe, beheading several demons and sending dark ichor spraying.

"You seem familiar, newcomer. You have the stink of angels on you. . ." Naecken said, dodging a strike from Vengeance's fiery blade. "Aye, you know me, fiend. I have battled you across many lifetimes, Kwaiziel." Vengeance's red helmet briefly turned transparent, showing the once handsome, now irrevocably scarred face of the angel Leshi Un. "I died, attempting to remove your stain permanently in Uraguay. Today, It ends, one way or another." Vengeance's helmet returned to transparency.

"Oh, indeed it will, most hated of foes." Naecken briefly touched the area where his arm had been severed in the caverns in South America. He turned and fired a burst of hellfire at his foe as Vengeance vanished in a mist. "GRRRRAAAGGHHH!!! Fight me, you coward!" Naecken screamed right before Vengeance's bike screamed into life again, ramming into him from behind.

Vengeance gunned the bike, carrying Naecken through the fortress, riding effortlessly across the floors of ice. Vengeance hit the brakes, sending Naecken flying into the wall. Vengeance pressed a switch as the front end of his bike reconfigured into a battering ram. He drove forward again, slamming into the wall, missing Naecken by inches.

"Ahhahahahahahah. . ." the demon lord laughed, firing off another burst of hellfire. The fire hit the wall next to Vengeance, releasing a burst of steam, temporarily blinding the Spirit. Naecken shot forth, tackling his foe and knocking him off of his metal steed.

Phil, Velo, and the Pantheon fought side by side, attempting to keep the demons from reaching either Tayden or Mick. Phil had tossed his guns away, switching to tk based attacks, using ice fragments to batter the creatures. Velo used his laser gauntlets to a variety of effects.

"Media, can you use your sorcery to close the gate?" Aelous asked, while using the Antarctic winds to freeze as many of the demons as he could. "I will try, but someone will have to keep these disgusting creatures off of me!" Medea blasted away the nearest demons with enchanted force bolts. "Pandora, if worse comes to worse, you will have to use. . . it." Aelous continued, glancing down at the wooden chest that never left Pandora's side. "As you command, Aelous." Pandora responded. The leader of the Pantheon knew that this turn of events was having a negative effect on the woman. Too much like her own story. he thought to himself.

*****************

The sounds of Vengeance's battle with Naecken echoed throughout the fortress. The composite being ripped chunks out of the floor and attempted to batter his opponent with them. Vengeance turned to mist, however, reappearing behind the demon lord and striking again with his flaming blade.

Vengeance's bike screamed into life again, firing
chains at Naecken from it's exhaust pipes. The demon lord was wrapped tightly in the adamantine embrace of the unearthly metal. Naecken struggled against the chains, seething. With one free hand, he blasted the bike with a powerful burst of hellfire. The bike emitted a sound that appeared to be a scream, immediately releasing Naecken from it's grip. "Well, that was most unexpected. . .but welcome. . ." Naecken thought.

Vengeance slammed into his foe again, striking swiftly with his flaming sword, he severed
Naecken's right hand at the wrist. The wound sizzled and charred over from the heat of
the blade. "GAAAAAGHHHHH!!!" Kwaiziel screamed. "You shall pay, Leshi Un! You
will know pain as none before!" Kwaiziel charged forth, attempting to grapple with his foe.

Exactly what Vengeance had been waiting for. Gripping his foe with both hands, Vengeance looked Naecken in the eyes as a yellow burst shot forth into the demon's body. "You think you've known pain? You've known nothing! Feel my touch. Feel it pulse inside of you. Know the meaning of my gift. The gift of. . .VENGEANCE!"

As Vengeance's pain pulse slammed into Naecken's body, causing him to feel all the torments
that he had inflicted on others throughout his existence. Naecken paused and reeled under
the strain of horrors from Kwaiziel's millenia of torment.

As Naecken slumped down to the floor, Vengeance once again brandished his flaming weapon. "Now, ancient foe, it is time to end your perfidy!" Vengeance closed in on his opponent, ready to gut him with the holy weapon. "Spirit of Vengeance, you are needed." A cryptic voice sounded from
nowhere. As a black garbed arm reached out from nothingness, grabbing Vengeance and pulling him away from the struggle. Vengeance's bike soon disappeared in the same manner.

After a few moments, Naecken began to shake off the effects of Vengeance's pain pulse. The Kwaiziel personality was not fully affected in the way a human would be. He began to take enjoyment in reliving the torments he'd inflicted for so long, and soon snapped out of the trance. Naecken looked around and could find no trace of his foe, the one called Vengeance. He began to laugh. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Truly the fates
are with Kwaiziel this day! None can stop me!"

“Jym!” Adem called out as he pulled himself up through metallic frame of the insect head. “I need you to be ready. I might need you on this one.”

{I will do as much as I can.} the AI replied.

“And try and get in touch with everyone else. Let them know about the fluid build up.”

/An intruder\ a grating mechanical voice echoed. /How unexpected. And futile.\

“This is just going to get harder, isn’t it?” Adem sighed as he continued his trek through the machine.

/Your interference is useless. I am an artificial being far superior to your race. My abilities outweigh any you could imagine.\

{For a superior being he sure does rely on cliche dialogue.}

Cables acted as tentacles and swiped at Adem as he attempted to climb. Through the web of wires, he could see the brain of the whole unit. It was large. The added responsibilities of the T5 unit necessitated a larger processing unit. One capable of manufacturing and controlling the vast robot army. And there it was just a few more feet away.

But Adem couldn’t reach it. His body was now entwined in the inner workings of the motherbot. Wires tried to strangle him while cables pulled against him with the intent of bringing him back down. Adem struggled to keep his grip. With all he could muster, the alien fought against the force pulling him down.

**************************************************************

“Oh, God! Why am I here? What the hell am I doing here?” a young man sobbed, hidden behind a snow hill. “This ain’t for me. I just want to be at home. I just want to be at home.” Only hours before he had been the average Puerta Mibela resident. He’d come over from the States with a pocket full of money he made in the Dot.Com boom of the 90's. Jerome Saunders had a nice new house on the beach, a Mercedes in the garage, and the perfect trophy wife. Now, he was sitting in the middle of World War III in Antarctic.

He’d gone because for years he’d been a man with a secret. He was a meta. Even living in a country open to his kind, he just couldn’t shake the feeling of shame that this genetic fluke had given him. The man had hidden his power for fear of rejection, exile, from his own family. But the time had come for him to stand up and be proud of what he was. To make a difference when it was the most necessary to make a difference. Unfortunately, he just didn’t have what it took. At heart he was a coward.

****************************************************************

“This is Foxtrot. I have visual confirmation. Permission to engage.”

“Foxtrot, this is Eisenhower. You go for combat. Repeat. You are go for combat. Kick some ass.”

A squadron of F-14's streaked across the sky spitting forth bullets and missiles into the robot horde. On their flanks were Russian MIG’s and the Royal Air Force. The sky became so cluttered that the sun was almost blacked out.

“Sir!” one of the American pilots yelled though his radio. “What the hell is that bug thing?!”

“It’s our next target.”

Missiles and explosions pelted the metallic hull of the T5 motherbot. But the beast still stood in defiance. Though it was scratched and dented, it was far from falling.

*****************************************************************

Jerome sat with his knees cradled up against his chin. He was thinking about how he’d never go home. That today was his, and possibly everyone’s, last day alive. In his mind Hell on Earth was now a reality.

The telepathic call of the fluid build up reached everyone on the battlefield’s mind. They all knew it was there, but few knew what to do. Those that did were unable to respond. In that moment, Jerome made a choice.

His friend and current partner in his Island Excursions business laid on the snow, nursing his wound. As he approached the injured man, Jerome couldn’t help but think of how much he had tried to hide his powers while, at the same time, seeking out those who were just like him. “Lionel, tell Julie I’m sorry.”

“Jerry,” his friend fought through the pain to say, “what the hell are you talking about?”

“Tell her I’m sorry I was such a coward. Luck pretty much gave me everything I’ve got. I was never good at taking chances. What’s the point when you wind up better off doing nothing, right?” His voice was trembling as were his hands as they presented Lionel with his wallet and wedding ring. “But that’s not going to do any of us any good now. I guess there’s a backlog of risk taking that I’ve got to pay up for, eh? Just tell her........ Well, you were always better with words than I was. Just tell her I said something better than this.”

Jerome walked away. A large, tough meta was landing with more wounded in his arms. “You! You can fly. Take me to that bug’s ugly mouth. It’s time we ended this,” Jerome commanded.

“That’s pretty dangerous business, buddy. I don’t think someone like you is quite up to it.”

“It’s okay. I’m............ invincible! I’m invincible. I can handle it.”

In a matter of moments, Jerome Saunders was wading his way through the vile fluid inside the beak of the giant T5 Mantis ‘bot. His body began to shimmer and glow. As he slid down the throat, the light around him became more and more brilliant. As his decent was instantly stopped by the robot corpse and he felt his leg snap, Jerome wished that he really was invincible. His bright light grew and grew into a massive explosion.

The T5 brain lost its connection with the rest of the body as the giant bug came crashing down onto the ice. The wires around Adem loosened as one’s grip might when in pain. The alien pulled himself up and grabbed a hold of the brain unit. His nanites were let loose, rerouting, destroying, and removing pieces.

/You have made a grave error!\ the voice barely screamed. /I am not defeated yet.\ Adem could feel a force invading his own mind. /I am not confined to artificial minds alone.\

The world spun. A fever broke out through Adem’s body as his own natural immunities and those of the nanites fought off T5's intrusion.

/Relent. Even the mind of a highly advanced meta human cannot withstand my will. I have already won.\

Adem gritted his teeth. “I am neither a meta nor a human!” With one final surge of will T5 was condemned back into its own brain. The alien grabbed a loose bar and ripped it free. “And I’m already sick of your condescending attitude.” With all his strength Different smashed the unit over and over again, until his own body passed out from exhaustion.

The chamber trembled with the cataclysmic might of gods and demons. The doors of the After-Dark continued their slow, massive opening; the black-light of sorrow and hate shining brighter and brighter through into the chaotic chamber. And The Pantheon pushed back with all of their godly might, straining to keep the interdimensional path sealed.

Before the gray haze of dust and ice had even settled from the main wall's destruction, Naecken and Vengeance plowed through another. Their battle escalating even as they exploded into a seperate chamber, the rest of the witnesses merely able to feel the shudder of their titanic might as it shook the fortress itself.

"..oh god..." Velo's desperate cry rasped with strained vocal chords, even as he leapt onto the fractured ice-altar.

Straddling Tayden's still, pale form, Kristogar pulled the dagger free from its settlement in the ex-angel's sternum. More blood escaped in a lazy bubble, the final bit of pressure leaving his internal organs. Velo's hands scrambled in the thick, wet, hot mess of blood and tissue. Calling upon every last bit of medical training, the man worked fervently trying to find a way....trying to look for anything he could repair. Anything of Tayden's cardiac center that was salvageable.

"...come on...come on..." his raspy breathe panted with a cloud of chill. "...don't do this to me Tayden..."

Wrist-deep in the pool of blood, Velo's raspy grunts came faster and faster, hoping against all hopes that the absolute temperature would be enough to slow the body's decline. Slow enough that a battlefield-trained medic....working with only a single laser scapel...could find some way to repair the massive damage to such primary internal organs.

It was a no-win scenario, and Velo knew it.

"...dammit...please god..." Kristogar pleaded under his panicked breathe. "...please....I'll do anything...."

And, with those words, Tayden's eyes suddenly shot open wide, startling Velo momentarily. Tayden's pale lips suddenly parted, a single long rasp of final breathe escaping into the frosty air...

"Oh no! NO!!" Velo's voice squeaked to almost-normal, a sudden panic filling his soul. "Come on Tayden! COME ON!!"

He pounded on the upper part of the man's chest, trying to jumpstart the rhythym of a damaged heart.

"Don't leave us now!!"

And Tayden's heart........stopped.

Don't leave us now

The words rang in Tayden's ears, getting further and further away...

Don't leave us now

Tayden yawned, stretching his arms a bit. He opened his eyes to find himself in a long, vibrant tunnel of color and sound....

"Ah....nice...." he mumbled, beginning to swim towards the pinprick of radiance, lying far, far down the tunnel. "...this has been overhauled since I last came through...."

He backstroked down the tunnel with a pleasurable grace and ease, admiring the pyres of exploding rainbows, and melting stars. He dog-paddled through the plains of Dream, giving the god of the Endless the 'peace' sign. He tipped an imaginary hat at the white-nothingness of 'The One From Beyond'. He winked with a casual flirt as he passed a cloaked, female skeletal figure standing on the bank of the stigian Styx.

Tayden did a double-take at the scythe-bearing reaper, even as he continued past her...

"...hey, you know a guy named Grimm?" he asked.

The skeletal figure merely gave him the finger.

Tayden turned forward again, swimming on.

"...wow...she's in a mood today...." he muttered.

And, on he swam, towards the light. Towards the warmth, and waiting embrace of love and paradise. He was going home. And, taking a deep sigh, he realized that he had missed it.

Suddenly, half-way down the tunnel, a single door of light creaked open...

"Excuse me...Tayden, is it?"

The voice was powerful and wise. An oft-mechanized rhapsody of eternal patience and modest presence.

"That's right....?" Tayden nodded, floating to a stop near the doorway.

The tall, imposing figure of stood siloutted against the bright illumnination behind him. It was a moment before Tayden could make out his features.

The temporal architect. The god of progression. Graham Wells' idol and hero...

"I am The Time Trust..." the smiling being offered.

"Yeah...yeah..." Tayden snapped his fingers with rememberance. "...I remember you..."

"Do you?" the Trust asked.

"Yeah....we met, remember? During that Multiverse conflict a few months back..."

The Trust smiled again.

"Did we?" he asked with a hint of ambiguity.

"Yeah...you helped us take down that 'Continuity'-jerk..."

"Did I?"

Tayden stared at the figure.

"...it's like talking to The Question..." he muttered.

"Tayden....The Courts of Light requests your presence..." the Trust finally announced.

"...ummm...really? Me?"

"Yes." The Trust nodded. "Really you."

Tayden shrugged.

"Well...okay....sure..." he said.

And with that, both beings stepped forth through the door of light....

*************

"Aeolus! Our strength fails us!!" Arges roared.

He, as with all of his godling brethren called forth the heighth of their mighty forces. And, still, it did not seem to matter. The door pusehd back, still opening wider, and wider.

Screams of the damned and undead wailed throughout the chamber, racking the already trembling torture of the structure itself.

Mick's eyes squeezed tight, he could feel the darkness clawing at him. Calling his name. Tainting his heart.

He wanted to call him. He wanted to open his mouth, and scream the name. He needed to fight back. He needed....to escape. To rest. To let Mxy take care of things.

Mick.......was tired....

A movement behind him suddenly caught his attention. Hands? Something...someone scrambling against the enchanted iron that bound his arms to the massive column. Someone...trying to free him?

"Who...who's there?!" Mick asked, his voice betraying the sheer fear he was feeling now.

"You always were a cry-baby, I swear...." the familiar voice came near his right ear.

Mick's eyes widened.

"Larry?!!" he exclaimed, trying to turn to see the man.

"Who else is going to bother to try and save your candy ass?" Larry Lance replied, struggling with the chains.

And, for the first time since this day began...for the first time in quite a while....Mick smiled.

"You came all this way for me?" he asked with a mock astonishment.

"I was bored."

"Oprah was a rerun, huh?"

"Yeah, and Spike's showing all those damn Bond movies again..." LL replied. "I mean, my god, how many times are they going to run Goldfinger?"

"At least it's not View to a Kill..." Mick shrugged.

LL flinched.

"Oh, god....I'd rather hump a broomstick than that nasty Grace Jones..."

"So that's supposed to explain that night I found you in the broom closet?"

LLance halted in place.

"I thought we said that we would NEVER mention that again?!"

"Okay! Okay! Jeez..." Mick nodded, shaking his bound chains fervently.

LLance grinned, going to work on the shackles again.

"...so...you came all the way to Antarctica for little old me, huh?"

"Well....there is this whole 'opening-the-gates-of-hell'-thing, you know..." LL replied, shaking his head. "...why do you think it's always about you?"

Mick smiled.

"I love you, too."

LLance sneered, still struggling with the chains.

"Hopefully marriage will take care of that..." he sighed.

"Heh." Mick grunted.

But, as he perused the carnage of the chamber.....the steadily opening doors of hell....the life-less form of Tayden....Velo pounding on his chest with a frantic anger....

....Mick's smile began to fade....

"...Larry..." he began.

And LLance caught the tone of his voice, pausing to look up.

"...if anything happens..."

Larry shook his head dismissively, trying the chains again.

"I know, I know....I'll pick up your child support payments for you..." he tried to joke.

"No man....seriously..."

Larry paused, not looking up.

"...if anything happens....tell Shirls' that....that....I...."

"....I know, man..." Larry nodded. "...and I will...."

Mick sighed, even as LL worked harder.

"...and, dude....." Mick said. "...you.....those first few months with the Revolutionaries....with the MBL.......I couldn't have made it without you...."

Larry said nothing, finding a lump rising in his throat.

"...you're my best friend...." Mick finished with a hushed tone.

"...oh...shut up....you wuss..." LL replied with a whisper, his voice catching a bit.

*************

"Heeeey....." the ex-angel, ex-living mortal nodded with an approving smile. "....nice upgrade, you guys..."

The luminescence of his surroundings was staggering. Walls made of galaxies. Floors of made of gravity-wells. And, the awesome light of The One penetrating overhead.

The Courts of Light.

"WE ARE PLEASED THAT YOU APPROVE, WARRIOR OF THE LIGHT..." the all-encompassing voice of the Metatron ringing off scale within the limitless range of thought and mind. "BUT, IT IS NOT ABOUT THE ALTERED PERCEPTION OF THIS PLACE THAT HAD US BRING YOU HERE."

"I kind of figured that..." Tayden nodded, running his fingertips across the rippling omnipresence that crafted the percieved surface of the massive table in front of him.

Within the tabletop, Tayden could make out the battle in Antarctica, flaring with an accute precision through the rippling surface.

"Things are getting nasty, huh?" he asked, the view of the interior chamber illuminated in the scrying surface.

"Far too out of hand..." the godling known as The Time Trust replied, sitting as with his comrades, surrounding the table.

"What's to be done, then, eh?" Tayden asked, looking at the all-powerful gods surrounding him.

"Doth my children's children fight the darkness....thus is their duty...." the mighty Zeus said, staring at the view of The Pantheon. "...still, they shall not be enough..."

"So, what is it you want me to do about it?" Tayden asked. "I seemed to have coughed-up the big one, you know?"

"Certainly, we expect that you will have no deciding sway in this battle..." the High-Father added. "...for yours is another task."

Tayden squinted with confusion.

"So...wait...youre saying that you brought me here....just to tell me that I can have no real use in the conflict?" Tayden asked. "Well....duh...I'm dead! Of course I can't help...."

"AND THAT IS WHY WE HAVE PULLED YOU FROM THE PATH OF THE AFTERLIFE..." Metatron announced.

"Verily, thy task is not complete." Odin joined in.

"My 'task'? You mean, the reason I was sent to Earth in the first place?"

"Indeed." The Trust answered. "It is not your time.....and I should know."

"So...what?" Tayden asked. "You just going to send me right back?"

"YES." Metatron nodded.

"What about THIS, though?!" Tayden asked with a modicum of excitement, pointing towards the conflict. "What about the Gates of Hell, and all that?"

"THE ONE IS NOT PREPARED TO ALLOW THE COMING DARKNESS JUST YET..." the all-voice replied.

"I know!" Tayden answered. "So what are you going to do about it?"

Steps are already being taken, mate.... the voice of a certain 'Continuity' replied. ...the Courts have seen what happens when this plays out in other realities. We won't allow it again.

"What steps? How are you going to stop this?"

"Our agents are enroute to the plain of mortals, even as we speak..." a golden-light being replied.

Tayden nodded at the being.

"Hey..." he grinned.

"Hello, Tayden..." the being known as The X replied.

"So, then, how am I supposed to get back, then?" Tayden asked, turning back to the Court members. "Last I remember, I had a nasty little knife-wound, and was missing about seventeen pints of the red-stuff, you know?"

The Time Trust smiled.

"Patience..."

*****************

The gateway was now partially open, black claws and tentacles trying desperately to slither through.

"...I think I just saw Tayden..." Morpheus commented, pushing against the doors with a grunted exuberance.

"That's great, Morpheus...." Castor began.

"....but, did he have an army of seraphim at his side?" Pollux finished.

"We could....HNNGH....use the help...." the veiled Stheno said, the massive Gorgon pushing with all of her power.

"MORE POWER!!" Aeolus barked. "JUST A LITTLE MORE!!"

Across the chamber....

"Okay....screw this!!" LLance yelled with frustration.

He took a few steps back from the column.

"Hang on....I'm going to try something...." he mumbled.

And, with a sudden sprint, raced straight at the column. The moment before he collided with the stone-mixed-ice, LLance went insubstantial, diving through the pillar.

With a sudden jerk, Mick toppled forward, as LLance did a phase-tackle into his back. The momentum of the ghostly forms tumbled to a rolling stop on the ground.

"Wait! Wait!" Mick yelled, lying on the ground, staring at his foot. "Don't let go! Don't let go!"

LLance, his hand still on Mick's shoulder, noticed that the man's left foot was ankle-deep in the floor. Mick quickly jerked the foot above ground-level.

"...okay...okay..." he nodded.

LL let go of his shoulder, both becoming solid again.

Mick looked up at the hanging chains, and back at Larry.

"Now, why didn't you do that to begin with?" he asked, a wry smirk on his face.

Larry opened his mouth to comment, pausing briefly.

"Uhh...oh, I just wanted to make you squirm....yeah....that's all...." he replied very unconvincingly.

"...moron..." Mick shook his head.

Larry leapt to his feet, reaching down, grabbing Mick by the hand.

"...okay, now, let's get out of here...." he said, hoisting Mick up.

Mick's eye rolled, as he staggered a bit. Larry jerked his hands out, steadying the man's seemingly frail form.

"Easy, chief....easy...." Larry said, a look of concern coming over his face. "...you okay, Mick?"

Mick nodded, a faint smile crossing his features.

"...yeah....yeah....I'm fine, man....really.....just dizzy...." he said, trying to reassure the man.

"So...how about you call out Mxy, and we blow this joint to hell and back?" Larry replied, the trembling sounds of Naecken and Vengeance going at it.

Mick shook his head.

"I don't know it that would be such a good idea, right now...." Mick said.

Larry frowned.

"I don't unders--"

His words were suddenly drowned by the crackle of an energy beam embracing him.

Mick jerked around to find Larry standing completely still. His skin had turned a dirty brown....

"Larry?!" Mick asked.

Stone. Larry Lance was now a solid, stone statue.

"I find that carbon-based life-forms are far easier to manipulate than others I have encountered."

Mick spun around to the source of the voice.

"I wonder....would your fifth-dimensional ties protect you from such a device?" Saros asked, walking towards him with some form of advanced weaponry in hand...

"AEOLUS!" Arges yelled. "WE CANNOT HOLD IT FOR MUCH LONGER!!"

The Pantheon struggled, even as the Gates widened.

And, suddenly, a faint breeze kicked up....

Aeolus turned his head, as if listening for something.

"What...?" Medea asked, as if hearing the same thing.

"Something....rending the spatial firmament...." Aeolus began.

And small smile crept onto his face.

"...someone....bending the z-axis...."

And, with that, a spatial wormhole 'boomed' open in the rear of the chamber.

Castor: "Hell...."

Pollux: "...yes!"

Aeolus smirked, even as figures stepped out into the chamber.

"You're late, Prophet...."

The firm hands of Turkish Stringfellow braced against the door.

"What is it they say....'better late than never'?" Stringfellow smiled.

"...always have to make the dramatic entrance..." Aeolus shook his head.

"Cross! Greystoke!" Turkish began. "Take to the battlefield! Friday! Z! We have to close this door!"

Friday shifted three-personalities over, calling up the massive might of Aggador Tallmoore.

"Ha!" the joyous bellow of the personality coming forth. "I've known women that can push harder than this sad crew!"

Arges cocked his only eyebrow.

"Charming newbie you guys have taken in, Turk..."

Z grunted, as she began warping spacial waves, straight into the open pathway, pushing whatever it was on the other side back further into its' own realm.

"Rowena!" Turkish announced over the roar of chaos. "You know what to do!"

***************

"Oh...great...." Tayden sighed. "...I see the 'deus ex machina'-team has entered the conflict..."

He turned, staring at the writer.

"....shocking..." he drolled.

He turned back to the Courts...

"So, when do I go back......and how?"

"You are a rather impatient young being, aren't you?" The Time Trust asked.

"When it comes to the end-of-the-world battles.....yes!"

******************

Velo ran, screaming with exhaustion and fury, diving at the alien Saros. The immense figure, in turn, shot him with a beam, petrifying him in his tracks.

"These humans are all the same..." he sighed, turning back towards the quickly retreating Mick.

At the altar, a shadow fell over Tayden's lifeless corpse. Rowena, the avatar of life itself, stared down at the white face with a small, warm smile.

Leaning slowly down, she placed her lips on Tayden's....

******************

"Whoa!" Tayden nodded. "She digs me!"

Before anyone could comment, a doorway of light suddenly opened with the chamber of the Courts...

"There is your path home." The Trust indicated.

"Oh." Tayden replied with a hint of disappointment. "That's it? Just a doorway?"

"WHAT WOULD YOU PREFER?" Metatron asked.

"I don't know..." Tayden shrugged, walking over to the doorway. "...maybe. like, some chariots of fire, or something.....hell, even a supernatural-cool-techno-sorcery elevator would be interesting....you know...something with a little flair..."

He paused, noticing everyone was staring at him.

"...ummm...did I just swear...here...?" he asked. "Sorry.....how embarrassing...."

And, with that, he stepped into the doorway of light....

*****************

Rowena releashed her passionate kiss on the man's lips, even as Tayden jerked straight up with a deep breath.

"Woooooooaaawww!" he exclaimed.

He turned with a smile, staring at the heavenly beauty before him.

"I tell you, 'red.....you've got some knockout lips..."

And, suddenly, Tayden felt very good about himself. Not for being alive again, mind you. But, even as she turned away with a small giggle, he realized....

...he had just made life itself....blush....

The avatar said nothing, turning with serious gaze upon the open doorway. Where others diverted their eyes, as to keep from going mad, she stared straight into the abyss. Focused on the indescribable darkness before her, she began a slow, steady stride straight for the opening.

And....her words hummed with joy....

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:I love you:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:. the words drifted across the sub-ether dimensions of pain and sorrow.

And, screams of a different type began to wail from the opening. The screams of eternal light, blazing the darkness with every word...

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:I love you all:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:. she continued, the denzins of Hell itself retreating further back into their realm. .:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:I love you forever:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

On the other side of the chamber.....

Mick tripped, falling into a pile of icy rubble. His ankle was now twisted. And his fatigue....

....he was so tired....

"Please....stop running....it only makes me have to work that much harder for my experiments...." Saros said, walking across the pile towards him.

He raised the weapon, Mick closing his eyes....

Suddenly, another portion of the main wall exploded, as a figure flew haphazardly straight into Saros...

Both figures rolled to a stop, Saros leaping to his feet with supreme anger.

"How DARE you!!" the alien yelled with indignance.

"...hey...don't look at me..." Ozzy Baxter began, trying to get to his feet. "...wasn't my idea...."

Saros raised the weapon towards him....

....just as a silver axe sliced his arm completely off....

"AAARRRRGGHHH!!!!" the alien roared in pain.

"It's called a 'Fastball Special', asshole...." the massive roar of Grimm rang easily above the chaos. "....I read it in a comic when I was a kid...."

The axe spun, whipping past Ozzy's ear, flying end-over-end into Grimm's powerful embrace.

"You want to talk to someone, Saros?" he began striding forward.

...and the axe gleamed against the burning glare of Hell's light....

"...talk to me..."

Vanguard Headquarters - Grissom’s Pad

Grissom Montag watched and relayed information to the Vanguards and allies at an incredible rate. He satellite feeds brought him into the action and showed him enough different sections of the battle, to best help everyone. The world around the Sandcrawler all but disappeared as he was in the mist of battle, helping his teammates, and friends in a fight that might be their last. He wished that he could be right there along side them, but he knew that this was his rightful place and where he could be the most useful to the team.

The foot soldiers began there storm out of the ice castle. Nea’s army of brainwashed innocents fought like vicious dogs being fed raw meat. Most would fall, for a moment, Grissom’s head dropped.

Than a flicker of an idea hit. A possible way to clear their minds? To save them from themselves?

Grissom hit the Comm. Link to the Monitor Room.

“Priest, I need stats on-“

Grissom stopped dead in his tracks. Brushing his hair back, he noticed that the monitor revealing the monitor room showed that the room was empty. Priest was gone without a trace.

Pressing another button, his voice went to the main office, “Shirley, I need-“

Anctartica

A streak of blue and gold shot across the icy palace. The meta know as Tobias Christopher searched high and low for captives, finding more and more ice and less and less people. A figure blocked the courier he was running down, forcing the speedster to skid to a stop melting his foot prints into the icy ground bellow.

Only a few feet in front of the hero for hire was one of the last Annunaki, the being known as Ningal.

”You run a fool’s mission”

It spoke in a deep hushed voice. Veins ripped out of the creature’s forehead and his arms bulged, gaining muscle mass.

Tobias took a step back, only to bump into Ninurta, another of the last remaining Annunaki. The young man’s only two exits were blacked and help was a long yell away. Ninurta’s large hand came down at Tobias only for the beast to be met with six kicks to the throat like area. Puss bulges on Ninurta’s head popped in anger as he and Ningal charged at their pray.

Inside the chambers as the Pantheon and the Order struggled to hold the massive doors closed, Phil added Z to the mental link. Rose Biggles relayed the coordinates of the escaped demons to Z as the avatar of space "boomed" them back into the doorway, face to face with their brethren.

Rowena continued sending her words of joy towards the beasts, weakening them. "We're almost. . .there. .." Aelous grunted. Looking over at Pandora, he shouted "One more push! Pandora! Now! Do it!"

"I. . .I don't know if I can, Aelous! It's all I have left! I don't know if I can bear being separated from it!" The woman said, struggling with the door, alongside her allies.

"You must, Pandora! Or else we're all lost!" the leader of the Pantheon commanded. "As always, it comes down to the women to get things done." Medea muttered under her breath as she conjured mystical chains to attempt to bind the doors shut.

"Pandora. . ." the woman looked upwards at the sound of the gravelly voice. "We believe in you." Arges the cyclops smiled as best he could while struggling even with his mighty strength. "We all believe. .." Stheno shouted from under her veil as she took a few quick glances into the doorway, turning many demons to stone. . . .we believe. . . Echo's power said as the young girl's pleaded with Pandora.

"All right, I'll do it. . ." Pandora stepped back away from her brethren and picked up the small wooden chest from the floor. Without hesitation, she opened the box and aimed it towards the doorway.

Waves of hope poured forth from the box, washing over the Pantheon and the Order, as well as the demons scraggling to escape the doorway. Intermixing and mingling with Rowena's own energies, the waves grew stronger, bolstering the heroes' efforts, and forcing the demons back through the doorway.

As the last embers of hope poured forth from the box, the gigantic nightmarish doors slammed shut, trapping the armies of Hell inside. The Pantheon and Order members slumped forward against the doors, sweat pouring down their faces. "Not a moment sooner. . ." "I couldn't have held another. . ." "Yer alla bunch a pansies. . ."

Pandora stared down into her now empty box. It was the only thing that had kept her going all these years. All the years of struggle, of guilt for what she'd done. Hope had been the only thing keeping her going. And now it was gone. A single tear began to fall down her cheek.

"Where there is life, Pandora, there is always hope." Rowena said, kissing the woman on the cheek, while touching the inside of her box with a single finger. The inside of the box glowed brightly as joy washed over Pandora's face. "Thank you." she said, hugging the avatar as the wooden chest closed again.

"No one set his foot over the gods of the two rivers" yelled Ningal, jumping at Tobias. What the speedster experienced, was like a slow motion. The Annunaki was suspended in air, coming to him at an impossible low pace. But when he saw the punch of the female alien approaching his jaws, and he found himself unable to react, he suddenly realized what was happening: his supervelocity had wear off, leaving him completely defenseless.

One, two three fist, and then all went black. The speedster fell, reversed on the ground, blood dripping from his open mouth, now lacking a few tooth.

Ningal eyes narrowed, and his mouth grimaced. "Well done, Ninurta!"

The other Annunaki simply nodded, standing up aided by his companion. They both looked at the dead Vanguardian, and then Ningal stated: "This is the first stone in the building of our victory!"

Ninurta touched the woman on the shoulder, and instantly they ran away at incredible speed, heading toward the cavern deep down the mountain, where the gates of Hell had opened.

They entered the enormous cave like twins tornadoes, heading themselves at full force toward the skull faced Vanguardian on the point of killing Saros.

The impact sent the double headed axe away. Ninurta touched Saros, giving him the same supervelocity stolen to Tobias. Saros laughed, as the wound where his arm was cut away began to seal and heal, and then took on supervelocity himself, slamming head on on Grimm, which was thrown off, right toward Ozzie. They both were hurled away. The other Annunaki didn't let them fall over the ground, taking them and throwing themselves through the narrow opening between the two leaves of the massive door of hell, just a moment before they closed and became sealed again. Their screams of horror and pain resounded for some long instants in the cavern, suddenly suffocated by the laughs of hundreds of demons. And then the silence.

Saros continued his run of death. He killed Mick with a single punch before his desperate tentative of summoning Mxy. He killed Tayden laughing at the address of those young fools of the Courts of Light, who were watching in horror the return to power of the Oldest Ones. He killed Aeolus with the force of a hurricane opposed to a light gale.

One after the other, Medea, Pandora, Z, Rowena, Cross, Friday, lady Greystoke, Arges, Castor, Pollux, all of the Pantheon and all of the Order fell, taken without even noticing by the three superhuman storms.

Just one stood before them: Turkish Stringfellow, the Prophet. He raised just one hand, calmly, solemnly. Only the rage for the terrible end of his companions twisted his expression, for the rest he was cold as ice. at the gesture, the air became thick, friction built up, until the three Annunaki stopped altogether, entrapped by the air.


"Why?" asked the Prophet, looking all around, at the dozens of cadavers.

He stepped further, toward the three alien. He raised his hands, whispering ancient words, when...

CLAP

...Turkish Stringfellow was squashed between the two giant hands of Naecken, who stood behind him, like a fly under a folded newspaper.

Ningal laughed, enjoying the victory of his own race and of his master.

Naecken went to the gate, and, imbued of all the power that was sacrificed that day, opened easily the way to Hell, letting his armies loose on Earth.

And then, Ningal took flight, with Ninurta and Saros, and they together fled over all over the world, seeing the armies of Hell storming through the continent as no resistance could be offered by the nations of the planet, and seeing Naecken crowned Prince of Earth.

Ningal felt himself so full of joy, to be nearly unable to contain it all.

She saw millions of men returning to worship the ancient gods of Sumer, he felt his own power growing to level never before reached, when the humans were mere millions, and not six billions like now.

And she saw the return of the gods that were lost, Enlil, An, and the Mother of all the Gods, Antu herself.

And Antu came, ancient as Earth, tall as the tallest mountain, wrapped in the shadow of the night.

And then the veil faded, and her shining face was revealed.

And it was the face of...

Adalia Perigord?

Ningal opened his eyes.

At her feet, were the dead body of Ninurta, and the one, beaten and lying, but still moving, of Tobias Cristopher.

But standing in front of her, a deadly smile on his beautiful face, was the one that betrayed her race, Adalia, the Annunaki that for the love of her lost, and then newfound, father, Captain Ekorre, enlisted for the Strikeforce under the name of Mindagame, mistress of illusions.

In her right hand, Adalia had a gun.

Her index stroke the trigger, and Ningal fell dead, as her brother Ninurta did a moment before.

Mindgame looked around, and when sure there was no one to watch her, she simply hurdled above TC, and walked away, leaving the Vanguardian to live his agony.

Battle Field

A blue haze appeared in midair, catching the attention of both sides of the army. The haze grew in thickness and depth. Moments later the large body of Priest appeared and crashed to the ground. He pushed his body up off the ground and whispered “I can’t believe that worked.” With that he took a high tech but ghetto strap off his arm, a makeshift teleporter and placed it within his belt buckle for protection.

Looking around, he saw the forces of good being driven back by the huge mass of a vicious brainwashed army. The soldiers opened fire, hitting themselves and their targets. Good thing Pete the Dead Guy is dead, or he would have now been really dead as Uncle Otto watched bullets rip through where the ghost had been standing. Otto let himself get angry and grew to huge man-eating-bear proportions, now able to take out soldiers left and right with no problem.

Priest took out two weapons, with just a push of a little button on their sides; the weapons shifted and grew around his arms, now looking much more dangerous. He whispered “stun” and jumped into the fray.

Among the brainwashed soldiers were also scientists, who should not be out on the battle field. One in particular was of Italian decent. The slender beauty was obliviously not an army woman, and by no means should have been out there.

With a shotgun in hand she aimed and shot at Uncle Otto, hitting him in a vulnerable spot. The man-eating-bear flinched and acted as any one would after being shot. He turned and his claws dug into the young woman, not knowing his strength, he killed the innocent woman on contact. No one could tell just how much the huge bear hated this, his eyes were filled with tears and he pressed forward, fighting for the good of the world against those just as innocent as his niece, Shirley.

The young lady’s body finished convulsing and laid still. On her shirt was a nametag that read a familiar name, Nichole Cicciotto. After the war is done and the good guys are victorious, they will spot the name among the hundreds of other fallen innocents, then they will have to inform a dear friend that his first cousin was a causality of war.

Thirty-seven minutes ago...

Leslie Kline spat blood from her mouth as she rolled from Ninlil's punch. The Annunaki amazon was stronger than she looked, especially since she was a tall, spindly alien - at were least six-foot-four. Beneath her thin frame were layers of deceptive muscle tissue far more advanced than human tissue, making her a very dangerous foe, indeed.

Leslie didn't know much about her opponent other than that she was strong - very strong. What she didn't know is how ready for this attack Ninlil really was. Her 'late' husband, Enlil was the head of the Annunaki invasion of the planet Earth, which, upon his reign of the pathetic little third asteroid from the sun, would make her its queen.

What Leslie didn't know was that Ninlil was powerful, angry, and determined to rule.

All that Leslie knew was that Ninlil had to go down... by whatever means necessary.

Flipping back up to her feet, Leslie delivered a roundhouse kick to Ninlil's side, which the Annunaki countered by catching the woman's foot and flipping her into the air. Reaching out her arms to steady herself, Leslie landed safely on her feet as she brought her arms swiftly forward with enough force to give the alien at least one cracked rib. However, her muscle reinforced ribcage made the maneuver futile.

Smiling wickedly, Ninlil swung to deliver a shop to the neck, but Leslie saw the move coming and was able to duck, finally connecting a kick to the alien's side. Staggering back, Ninlil growled.

Leslie was starting to breathe heavy. She was all out of ammo, all out of gimmicks, and all out of time. If she didn't take this alien down fast, there was no telling what was going to happen. She'd sent out a distress call to Rose Biggle and the gypsy had said she was sending help, but that had been ten minutes ago. Her time was running short...

"Your time is running short," the alien woman snarled in a voice uncharacteristically low for a woman. However, due to the bizarre construction of Annunaki vocal chords, a typical female voice had the intonation in the high bass range. "Your health is failing. Your planet is ours. The faster you begin to accept this inevitability, the easier it will be for us all. Perhaps, I'll even make you my personal maidservant..."

"Don't think so, sister," Leslie said, steadying herself and setting up a defensive position. "All I know is you're not gonna be getting out of here so..."

"SISTER?!" Ninlil's eyes flared with rage as spittle flew from her mouth. "You would dare to equate yourself with me?"

Leslie smirked. "Why not?" she said wryly, pumping her hand, as though goading Ninlil to come toward her.

"Impudent wench," Ninlil shot herself into the air, pushing off with her powerfully muscular legs. "I shall teach you to mock my generosity!!"

At the pinnacle of her arch, Ninlil arched downward, aiming her rapid decent at Leslie Kline's waiting form. The mercenary lay ready as the Annunaki grew closer... closer... closer...

A yell erupted suddenly as the form of a woman ripped through the air, as Nuriko flew through the air, connecting head on with the falling Ninlil. The two women rolled away with the force of the impact as Leslie rushed to the woman's aid.

Nuriko pounded on the alien's face as orangish blood flew from the cuts appearing as Nuriko continued her beating.

A sudden fist to the abdomen sent Nuriko away, landing at Leslie's feet.

"Got here as fast as I could," the Asian said, pulling herself from the ground.

"Took long enough," Leslie said, popping her neck. "Got any weapons?"

Nuriko shook her head. "Katana broke after I stabbed that bitch Erishkigal to a block of ice..."

"Kill her?" Kline asked.

Nuriko nodded.

"Good," Kline said.

"You people," Ninlil said, spitting out the last word repulsively. "You marvel at your own superiority. You think there is nothing more than you anywhere in the universe. Even your science fiction lists you as the dominant alien species."

"What do you intend to do about it?" Nuriko asked, crouching into a fighting position, Leslie quickly following suit.

"I intend to show you the error of your ways... in blood!"

With renewed speed and vigor, Ninlil attacked the two Vanguardians, delivering kick after kick, blow after blow. Both women did their best to stand their ground, but the Annunaki was too strong, too fast for them.

As the two women fell into the soft snow, a battered and bruised Ninlil stood above their bodies. Balling her fist to deliver the final blow, the woman known as Ninlil suddenly stopped. Her years of training eroded away as one single thought suddenly consumed her very being.

Enlil.

"I sense his presence still on this orb," she whispered to herself, looking off in the distance. "I must find him... he must be the one to lead this revolt."

With that, she leapt into the air, her muscular legs carrying her far from the raging battle...

Now...

The rev of a snowcat mounting a snow-covered hill was heard by none as the two men atop the vehicle slid to a stop a few yards away from the two unconcious women.

The second man, in a Strikeforce med suit, hopped off, running up their location, checking their vitals.

"They're still alive, C!" the Strikeforce agent Patch yelled back. "How do you do that, man?"

Constantin Goodmorning just smiled. "The nose knows, man... the nose knows..."

Entangled with several of Naecken's brainwashed 'slaves', Phil Smith suddenly stopped in his tracks.

<What's the matter?> Grissom called over the comm.

"Leslie," Phil replied. "I heard her for a moment... then she was gone." He paused long enough to flip a charging Norwegian scientist over his shoulder.

<I've still got vital signs on her life monitor>, Montag replied.

Phil nodded. "I know. I can still sense her. But she's silent. Probably unconscious." He ducked as a Japanese surveyor hurled a throwing dagger in his direction.

<What do you plan on doing?>, the mercenary inquired.

"I've got to get to her," Phil concluded, "but I've got to get past all Naecken's zombies first."

The surveyor pulled out a katana and grinned wickedly at the telepath. He flashed the sword over his head and whirled it around in an elaborate display of skill.

I think he wants to fight me, Phil reasoned.

The surveyor shouted some sort of imprecation at Phil in Japanese and swung the sword around a bit more.

I don't have time for this shit, Phil concluded. He rolled his eyes, drew his Gauss cannon, and zapped the would-be Mifune, who jerked spasmodically before toppling to the ground, unconscious.

Phil holstered the weapon. I think Indy was on to something.

Phil hurried outside and scanned the battlefield until he felt Leslie's emanations clearly. He rushed over and found her and Nuriko lying unconscious, abandoned by Ninlil. Nearby were two Strikeforce members Phil didn't recognize, a medic and Constantin, both similarly unconscious. He would have to attend to them in a moment. First Leslie...

Leslie's eyes fluttered open. "It's about time," she murmured weakly. She rolled over and tried to get to her feet. "I'm gonna kill that bitch..." She slumped over and was out again.

Phil's eyes narrowed. "I want a piece of those damn aliens," he muttered.

It didn't take long for him to get his wish. A blast of energy ricocheted off his psionic shield and launched him into a snowdrift.

"Another interloper?" A tall, powerfully-built Annunaki laughed deeply. "I suppose you have a death wish as well?"

"Not... particularly," Phil replied as he extricated himself from the snowdrift. "Who the hell are you supposed to be?"

The new opponent chuckled again. "I... am Marduk!" he boomed. "And I will let you beg for mercy... this time."

"Don't waste your time," Phil replied. He paused. "Hey! Wait a minute!" He thought a moment. "People sacrificed their children to you! The Sumerians, the Babylonians, the Assyrians... Even the Israelites tried it a few times!"

The Annunaki said nothing.

"And you let them?!?" Phil was incredulous.

The Annunaki said nothing.

Phil shook his head. "It takes a fair amount to piss me off nowadays," he said, brushing snow off himself. "But considering that one of you extraterrestrial assholes was responsible for hurting someone I care about-" he glanced at Leslie, who was still lying in the snow "-and you're responsible for hurting a lot of my teammates, and throwing the whole human sacrifice thing in for good measure..." The telepath paused. "Yeah," he concluded, "I'm pissed off." He smiled. "I think I'm gonna kick your ass."

Phil rushed at the Annunaki, who simply knocked him back with another energy blast. "Pathetic human!" Marduk roared. "What can you hope to do against the might of Marduk?"

"Whatever it takes to get you to shut the hell up," Phil replied, getting up slowly and dusting himself off again. "Your dialogue sucks!"

Marduk let fly with more blasts of energy. The first one sent Phil flying backward, and the telepath plowed through two snow drifts before coming to a stop against a rock face. Marduk was temporarily blinded by the flying snow, and as the steam cleared, his vision flickered momentarily for some strange reason. The Annunaki shook his head briefly, to clear his vision, then saw to his amazement that the human was still coming toward him!

"That was it?" Phil asked, laughing.

Enraged, Marduk hurled more glowing energy at Phil... and missed. The Annunaki was dumbfounded.

"Ummmm..." Phil looked around. "I... think... you might've... ummm... missed there, buddy."

Marduk roared and unleashed more of his power, again to no effect. He had been warned that this particular human possessed curious mind powers, but so far Marduk hadn't seen Phil use any, except for that shield of his... which couldn't hope to last long against the fury of the feared sun-god of numerous ancient civilizations. Yet, somehow Marduk's energy blasts seemed to go right through this enemy!

Marduk fired off blast after blast, all with the same results. He was beginning to tire when he felt a tap on his shoulder. "Check this out," a voice said softly.

Marduk turned to see Phil... behind him.

Phil Smith smiled.

And punched Marduk.

In the face.

The winded Annunaki tumbled to the snow. "Get up!" Phil yelled. He rushed up and kicked the fallen would-be deity in the chest. "Get up, you sonofabitch!" He laughed. "I can't believe you fell for that!"

Marduk shot to his feet and swung at Phil mightily. He connected, sending the telepath flying... for real this time.

Phil's world was spinning, and his ears were ringing. He struggled to pull himself out of the snow as the extraterrestrial approached.

"You fool!" Marduk hammered Phil with another savage blow. "You seek to contend with the power of Marduk?" He grabbed the smaller being by the throat and hoisted him bodily into the air. "What have you to say for yourself, before I send you into the afterlife?"

Phil couldn't breathe. Marduk was crushing his windpipe, and he was still reeling from the two hits the Annunaki had landed. He summoned the last of his strength and spit blood into Marduk's face... then assaulted the alien's mind with all the energy he could muster.

It startled Marduk enough to make him stagger back and drop Phil to the snow. Phil gasped for breath, then stood to his feet and attacked again. Marduk desperately hurled another energy blast - which proved to be a serious mistake. Phil telekinetically reached out and captured the burst of energy... then launched it back at Marduk.

Now he had the Annunaki's calling card. Marduk, caught off guard, couldn't get the telepath out of his head, and Phil slipped in and took control of Marduk's energy-summoning power, effectively short-circuiting the alien's energy blasts.

The effect was catastrophic. Unable to free himself from Phil's mental grip, Marduk writhed in a bath of his own medicine. Ghastly pale light wreathed the Annunaki as he twitched and jerked like a man hit by lightning. Phil simply intensified his assault. His sense of humanity may have been perfectly intact... but in this case it clearly didn't extend to non-humans, especially not ancient mass-murderers with the blood of millions of children on their hands.

In Phil's eyes, Marduk was no different from the child-killers whose lives he took in New York.

After almost a minute of this, the smoking form of Marduk dropped to the snow. He rolled over and gasped for air. Phil walked over and drew one of his MP5s. "You had no intention of showing me any sort of mercy, did you?" he asked. "And then you would have killed Leslie too, wouldn't you?"

Marduk glared up at him. "I... am... Marduk. You deserve no mercy from me."

Phil shrugged. "Cuts both ways."

He opened up with the MP5 and emptied the thirty-round clip into Marduk's smoking body. When he was satisfied that the Annunaki was dead, he strolled up and kicked the body once more. "Relax. It's much warmer in hell, Marmaduke."

"Phil...?"

The telepath dropped the gun and spun around. Leslie was trying again to get to her feet.

Phil hurried over and scooped her up in his arms. "It's okay," he told her. "Everything's gonna be okay." He brushed the snow from her hair and kissed her cheek.

Leslie sniffed the air. "Is something burning?"

Phil shrugged. "Just Marduk."

Leslie's eyes widened. "The Sumerian sun god?"

Phil paused. "What's left of him, anyway."

Leslie shook her head. "The irony."

Behind her, Nuriko got to her feet slowly. "What... what happens now?" she asked faintly.

"I'm not sure," Phil replied.

He turned and was greeted by the sight of the two Strikeforcers rising to their feet. One stepped forward. "Mr. Smith?"

"That's one of the nicer things I'm called," Phil replied.

"I'm Constantin Goodmorning," the Strikeforce member replied, shaking the telepath's hand.

"Are you all right... Good...mor... Constantin?" Phil asked.

Goodmorning nodded. "I'll be fine. The three of you had better get back to your team. We'll take it from here."

In an isolated part of the Antartic, Drax and Nergal continued to battle. The dragon against the Wendigo. Nergal roared in anger and latched his long sharp claws into Drax's throat. Both of the creatures' pale coats were stained in dark red blood. Drax, said Drake, this is not looking good.

Drax grabbed Nergal's shoulder with his front claws and managed to kick at Nergal's torso with his rear feet. "Don't I know it." A wave of dizziness hit the dragon. The blood loss must have been more than he imagined. "I have no idea how long I can keep this up."

Nergal dug his long teeth deep into Drax's arm. However, he caught more fur than flesh. Drax pulled away from the monster before he could recieve any more blows. Hissing and spitting, the dragon contined to back up as the Wendigo pushed forward, swinging his arms in an ape-like manner.

In the skies up above, Brianna's wings were wearing out. Without any thermals produced by warm air, the Banshee was forced to power her own flight. Something that Brianna couldn't do for an extended period of time. But her sharp eyes spotted Drax. He was slowly starting to lose the battle. Nergal had cornered him against some massive upright sheets of ice. Drax was biting and snapping whenever he had a clear shot. Nergal's blows, although not as powerful as in the beginning of the match, were enough to bring the dragon down on the ground.

Nergal leaned closer towards the fallen dragon. "Had enough, pale lizzard?"

Drax's left eye opened again, and he snapped his jaws once more -- covering Nergal's nose, making it impossible for the Wendigo to breathe.

The two animals were locked into this position for several minutes, rocking back and forth as Nergal tried to tug himself free from Drax's jaws. Brianna slowly began to descend as the Wendigo's body stopped movie. Drax spotted her right before she hit the snow. He dragged Nergal's corpse and pinned it againt the sheets of ice. "Hey Banshee," said the dragon. "Bury him in the ice for me."

Brianna obeyed, sending a wave of sound against the frozen water. The ice cracked, and Nergal's body was crushed under the tons of ice and snow.

Drax took a moment to clean some of the dried blood off his fur. "What's the point?" asked Brianna. Drax noticed the cut on her own forehead. "The battle's not over, and we're going to get a little more bloody. Besides, I think it makes you look very frightening."

"Really?" asked Drax. He grinned. "I'm blushing." He walked towards Banshee and lowered himself to her level. "Care for a lift? They probably need a few extra hands over there."

Brianna grinned and jumped onto the dragon's back. "Right. Let's go!"

The metal peeled back like dead skin. Steven Richards tossed the wreckage aside with little strain. The thermal jacket and pants covered up his normal EPS jumpsuit. “Can you see it?” the voice of Walker impatiently asked through his headset.

“No. Not yet. It must be further down,” the agent replied.

“I want that core,” Walker reminded his employee. “A find like this does not need to go unsalvaged.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Richards muttered underneath his breath.

“What was that?”

“I said, Yes, sir.”

The agent continued to dig. Ice had already begun to form on the edges of the once mighty T5 bot. All the drone bots had stopped dead in their tracks when the mantis like robot went down. Walker easily concluded that it was the source. If so, it was a very powerful source. One that would make a great addition to his research. So, Richards continued to dig.

“I found the core,” he reported through his headset. The brain unit was smashed beyond recognition. Flames from electric fires still crackled on their way to extinction. “It doesn’t look salvageable.” His attention was caught by a slight sound to his left. Steven moved more metal out of his way to discover an unconscious Adem Different. “It might not all be a loss. I’ve got an unidentified meta. Odd looking guy.”

Walker peered at the monitor displaying Richards’s view. The lighting was bad, but he could make out a human form in the shadows and debris. “ I.G.O.R. doesn’t have him in his database. He must have been part of the group that came along with the Vanguard team. Bring him aboard for medical treatment.”

“Got that,” Richards said as he bent down and picked Different up.

The EPS agent struggled to get the very tall alien out of the fallen robot. At times, he almost slipped back down. As he neared the top, a large purple hand reached down and pulled him up. “I am being thanking you for finding new comrade Different,” Blackwulf said as he lifted the alien off of Richards’s shoulders with ease. “Is not being good business to loose new team member before he is being signing waiver.” The purple giant laid the six foot- eight-inch Vanguardian over his own shoulder.

Richards felt his fingers inching closer to his katana. “No,” Walker ordered over the radio. “Not this one. Not now.”

Blackwulf rode down the side of the T5 corpse like a playground slide. He landed next to Luchadore and Johnny, who were still trying to remove Spike the Human Lawndart from Utu. The well below sub zero temperatures had caused the alien’s internal organs to freeze mere seconds after being exposed to the open air. “It’s not like I can wash this stuff off,” Spike continued to complain. “I mean, it’s frozen to my friggin’ body. How gross is that. I swear, I’m never hanging out with you guys ever again. You just wind up getting me in trouble.”

“So,” Luchadore asked Johnny without paying any attention to Spike. “Do girls like movies. ‘Cuz I can take her to see a film. Maybe even a drive-in movie. I’ve heard about what goes on at those.”

“Um…. Yeah. Girls like movies. I don’t know about that thing, but girls like movies,” Johnny uneasily answered.

“And food. Do girls eat? If so, I can take her for a burger or somethin’.”

Uncle Otto was busy lifting up T5 drone parts to free those who may have been trapped underneath when they fell over dead. Yet, he could still find time to speak with his own teammates. “This is such a mess.”

“Yeah, don’t I know it,” Drag Racer responded. “Running in heels is bad enough. This snow and ice just makes it darn near impossible.”

Otto set a robot back down. “Not that. I’m talking about more serious things.”

“Yeah! You’re right. That Luchadore guy seems nice, but I don’t know if I can go out with him.”

“What? I thought you said that you liked women. Even if you…. you know.”

“…Dress like one? Is that what you were going to say?”

Otto just nodded.

“Oh. Ok. But, yes, I do like women. Come on! Do I look gay to you?”

“Um…… If you’re not gay, then why are you even considering going on a date with a guy?”

“He said he’d give me those earrings in the window at Flarney’s back home, and I have the perfect outfit to go with them. It’s this nice little strapless black dress with a matching purse that has diamonds along the strap. They’re not real diamonds, but they look real. You wouldn’t be able to tell unless you………”

Saros looked at the Vanguardian who had just cut his arm off. He looked around the room of the fortress. He took note of the assemblage of Vanguard, the Order, and the Pantheon. He noticed none of the demons or Annunaki forces.

Saros decided now was not the time to fight. He began to lower his weapon. As he did so, he felt a burning sensation in his stomach. Tendrils of smoke began to rise up from his body and curl in the air. Saros doubled over in pain just his physical form burst into flames.

"What the. . ." "EEWWWW!!!" "Smells like. . ." "Who. . ." "Bates!" "Don't be ridiculous. . ."

The Naecken, Lord Kwaiziel, self styled Prince of Hell strode forth from the shadows. Hellfire surrounding his outstretched arms, his hand having regrown. He looked over at the swiftly burning form of Saros with contempt. "I never liked him. Though he was useful, for a time."

"So many friends come to play with Naecken. . .Can it be? The Prophet? In the flesh, this time? Well then, who wants to go first?" the demon asked the assemblage.

Grimm looked over at Turkish. Though he had no visible way of making an expression, Turkish could sense that he was saying, Go, this is my fight.

Grimm stepped up to the demon lord. "I'll face you. One on one. But let them leave the fortress."

"Ahhh, Grimm. Do you know that just this morning, someone asked me to kill you?" Kwaiziel smirked. "Very well, you may leave," Naecken addressed the group. "But when I am done with him, I will come for each of you."

As the assembled forces filed out, Naecken yelled out, "I WILL PICK MY TEETH WITH YOUR BONES, PROPHET!"

In the empty fortress of ice, Naecken and Grimm stood silent, glaring at each other. "So. . ." Naecken began.

"So. . ." Grimm answered. Grimm received a mental all clear from Rose Biggles on the telepathic link. He glared at the being before him.

"Your move, hero. . ." the word slithered off of Naecken's forked tongue with a hiss.

Grimm reared back with his axe and brought it down full force on the floor of the ice palace! The floor erupted and shattered as tendrils of blue energy snaked out of Grimm's axe and along the walls and floors cracks filed up and down, Naecken's fortress begam crumbling under it's own immense weight. . .

No one noticed as Naecken's fortress began crumbling, but shivers were sent through the fighting populace as a wave of blue energy passed over the field of Artic combat. Among the metas and brainwashed a new village appeared in the icy mist, one of the few remaining Annunaki, the large brute known only as Ninhursag. The blue skinned alien looked like a demon from the pits of Hades itself, two horns protruded from its head, its eyes a glossy white and his arms and skin were large, thick and impenetrable.

In a violent rage, the alien stormed the battle field killing soldiers from both ends, the brainwashed innocents and the few brave souls who came to fight for Earth’s freedom.

Bullets bounced off Ninhursag’s chest and he smiled an evil grin. With a single movement he grasped and crushed a human soldier’s skull, lunged and bit out another’s throat. The beast yelled at the top of his lungs, “YOU KILLED MY BROTHERS!”

Hearing the beast’s yell, Priest turned and stopped in his tracks, staring at the monster. Without looking, he fired and blasted three brainwashed soldiers with his stun weapon, saving a fellow meta.

Ninhursag came face to face with Baaghrupta. The once Lord of the Flies was height level with the alien. Ninhursag let lose with the first punch, to the lower stomach of the dancing turtle/ex-demon. Baaghrupta turned hitting Ninhursag hard with his outer shell and followed with an offensive assault that would be the equivalent of an enraged dog. Ninhursag hit the ground and blood seeped from his nose. Baaghrupta jumped on the villain, this being the first time he has had to be so brutal, well, since his time in that hell like dimension… but he doesn’t talk about that much.

Under Baaghrupta’s massive weight, Ninhursag’s eyes glowed and he actually grew larger. Now doubling the size of demon turtle, the Annunaki kicked Baaghrupta off of his massive body.

Baaghrupta hit the icy floor hard and was barely able to roll away from a punch that broke through the floor. Baaghrupta was unable to avoid a powerful kick to the stomach. With a single hand, the Annunaki lifted him off the ground and smashed him straight down. Ninhursag’s finger nails grew larger and he smiled revealing very sharp teeth. He sunk his hand into the soft spot of Baaghrupta’s stomach, a gooey dark red and green blood seeped out. The alien reached back for the killing blow.

Two zaps of lightening connected with the creature’s back. Dropping the once lord of the flies, Ninhursag turned and his eyes connected with Priest who was making his way through the crowds of fighting soldiers. Priest let a shot fly from each of his weapons, connected once again with the beast, the alien yelled in pain but smiled as smoke rose from his back and chest. A moment later he once again grew in size.

Priest’s eyes widened, this alien had his power. Spinning his weapons around, Priest did something his brain told him not to, he unleashed the full fury of his weapons on himself. Grinning his teeth through the pain, Priest doubled, and then tripled in size, becoming just smaller then the alien murderer in front of him.

Throwing his weapons down, Priest jumped at the alien and the titans traded blows, each one powerful enough to shatter a mountain top. The vibrations caused by the two men shook the ground so hard that soldiers from both ends fell off their feet and hit the icy ground. Neither man held back, viciously punching, clawing and using everything that they have. As they fought, they both grew larger and larger. Blood shed at a rapid rate. Ninhursag dug his right hand into Priest’s shoulder, the beast’s claws digging into the soldier’s arm. Priest retaliated by ripping off Ninhursag’s right horn. The beast stumbled back, having never felt such pain. Priest ran forward with a lightening quickness and stabbed the horn directly into the Annunaki’s left eye. Ninhursag regained his footing and ignored the pain and he continued to swing at Priest, slicing the side of his head and clawing down his chest. Priest let his immense body weight fall directly onto Ninhursag’s right leg, snapping it on contact. The towering alien fell, cracking the ice under him. Priest leapt at him, but the alien dove away, letting Priest hit the weak ice, cracking it further.

Ninhursag jumped back at Priest his huge arms hitting the ground in front of the future soldier. Priest contributed to Ninhursag’s forward motion and threw the beast down and followed with a foot to the lower back and two punched to the back of the skull.

As Priest went for the killing blow, his hands violently shook, Not now, not yet were his last thoughts as he fell back and hit the ice. Trying to hold back the inevitable, Priest ignored the distortional beating of his heart and the pain that came with it. With this opening, Ninhursag tried to crawl away to save his own life, but Priest held on to him. Pulling out a small device, Priest slammed the metal rod like weapon through Ninhursag’s broken and battered leg and into the ice. Priest rolled away just in time for the weapon, a make-shift bomb, to trigger and blow a huge hole into the ice. Ninhursag’s dismembered body fell into the icy waters bellow. Priest pulled his broken body to his feet just in time to see the alien sink out of sight.

In an instance, a thought floated through his mind, December 13th, 2016 – This is Kyle Foster reporting for CNNT, earlier this morning an alien creature, who called itself the Ninhursag massacred its way through two foreign embassies. The death total is unknown, but officials say it ranks over 300…

Priest cracked a smile before grasping his chest. His heart beat slowed. His eyes went into the back of his head. Falling onto the hard ice, the battle continued without any one to notice or help the fallen hero. Priest just lay there, knowing very well that these were his last few breaths. For once he did not feel like a failure. The future he was trying to save, the only future he had known was cold and sterile. Was he ever truly happy among the armies he was a part of, the one’s that he led?

His only friends were of this time. They could have been his friend at least… But Priest kept them at arms length. Now, he would die as he lived, a soldier, alone.

But he would die knowing that the future he was apart of, would never exist, not anymore. He would die free.

Phil Smith was not in a good mood.

Attempting to undo some of the damage caused by Naecken and the Annunaki, the telepath was prying into the minds of the multitude of innocent bystanders that had been brainwashed into fighting in Naecken's 'army' and trying to restore some semblance of order to the mass of scientists, surveyors, and military personnel. It was tedious work - slipping into the chaotic minds of the victims and undoing the layers of foreign programming. Phil felt like he was peeling onions. Wet onions. With a wooden spoon. Blindfolded.

<'Ey, Philsy!> Grissom called over the comm.

"Yeah?" Phil figured it'd take something pretty important for the mercenary to distract him from this.

<We've got a problem,> the Brit reported. <Priest is down. It looks bad, but I can't be sure how bad just yet.>

Phil frowned. "Is anyone else in the area?"

<Just Kline,> Grissom replied, <and I'm sure you're aware she's right next to you.>

Phil turned to his left and glanced at Leslie, who was giving medical attention to the people whose minds Phil had just straightened out. "Yeah, she's here."

<You might need to bring 'er,> Montag suggested. <Looks like he'll need all the medical help you can get 'im.> He paused. <I'm relaying his coordinates to you now.>

Phil checked the tactical data assistant - a steroided PDA with GPS equipment - clipped to his utility belt. According to Grissom's information, Priest was less than two hundred yards away. The telepath turned to Leslie. "Priest is in trouble," he announced. "We gotta go help him."

Leslie scowled. "What about these people?"

She read Phil's expression and understood. "Okay."

The two hurried off, ducking and dodging through the late stages of the battle without attracting much attention.

"Over there," Leslie said, pointing.

Phil slowed down when he got close enough to see Priest more clearly. "Shit," he muttered. He looked around and saw how much blood the futuristic fighter had lost. "Dammit!" He dropped down to get a closer look at the enlarged and battered hero's fallen form. "Shit. Not you. Not now." He turned to Leslie. "We gotta do something," he snapped excitedly.

Leslie nodded. She dropped to one knee and felt Priest's wrist. "Pulse is shallow... and fading." She frowned. "I don't know."

Phil pounded the ice in frustration. This was his friend - one of the few members of this team he really trusted. And he was dying.

Phil could recall some very basic first aid, but examining the magnitude of Priest's injuries, he found himself realizing the inevitable.

For the first time in a long time, he couldn't think of anything he could do.

"Watch out," Leslie said as she opened her kit of medical supplies. "I've got exactly one trick up my sleeve." She pulled out a syringe of epinephrine. "There isn't anything we can do about the battle damage here. I can try and jump-start his heart with this..." She paused. "But only Priest can fight this and come back." The former bounty hunter shook her head. "And I don't think we can make him do that."

Phil set his jaw. "I can."

Leslie raised an eyebrow. "If he dies," she warned him, "I might lose you in there too."

Phil stopped. He was sitting here next to the unconscious form of Priest... whom he could probably consider a friend. But there next to him was someone he cared about more than anyone he could remember... anyone since Gabriela.

Was it worth a chance of never seeing Leslie again to try and save Priest?

The telepath paused for a moment to gather his strength, then reached desperately into the mind of the dying hero.

The scene was pure chaos. Phil looked around and saw almost nothing in the flickering, fading light. Wreckage and debris was strewn all around him, and there was no sign of Priest.

"Priest!" Phil called. "PRIEST!"

"What the hell are you doing here?" a voice mumbled faintly. Phil turned and saw Priest lying on his back, seemingly unhurt, but unable to move. "It's too late, dammit!" the hero murmured. "Get out while you can!"

Phil squatted down next to him. "No way, man."

He paused. "Remember when we first ran into each other?"

"The hell are you talking about?" Priest mumbled.

"In the old HQ," Phil explained, "before the hurricane when you first showed up. You came in and threw all of us around, went after Danny." The telepath chuckled at the memory. "You scared the piss outta me. I hid under a damned table!"

He looked down. "I'm not scared of you anymore," he said. "I trust you, and you know you can trust me. So come back to us, Priest. Don't give up. The fat lady hasn't even emerged from her dressing room yet."

Phil looked up to see a piece of wreckage drop toward him. He ignored it, and it vanished.

"Don't waste your time," the man from the future growled. "Can't you see I'm finished here?"

"Not on my watch," Phil argued. "I'm not gonna lose you, man."

"Why should you care what happens to me?" Priest wondered.

Phil shook his head. "You're crazy, man. You've saved my sorry ass more times than I can count. We've teamed up to wipe out some nasty bastards." He paused. "Where would the trio be without you, man? Who'd play Mick and Shirley's wedding?" Phil looked straight at him. "The team needs you, Priest. The team needs you to come back. I need you to come back." He looked down. "I've lost enough friends already."

Priest raised an eyebrow. "Friends?"

Phil smiled and nodded. "Friends, man." He turned as there was a burst of sparks from somewhere in the mass of debris. "I'm your friend, Priest, and you're one of my friends. I don't wanna lose you, buddy."

Priest couldn't think of anything to say.

Phil tried his best to glare at him. "So you're gonna get up," he ordered, "and come back with me. Or I'm gonna have to come with you to wherever you go from here and kick your ass." He grinned. "Just try and stop me."

"Is... that... an order?" Priest challenged, amused.

Phil looked around. "Grimm's not here at the moment," he said. "Which, I think, makes me the most senior member of Vanguard present. So, yeah, that's an order." He paused. "And I am prepared to kick your ass." The telepath extended a hand to help Priest up. "Come on, buddy," he said. "Let's get going."

Priest waited a long moment. Then he shrugged. "Orders." He reached up with a shaky hand and grabbed Phil's as everything faded to nothingness.

Phil looked around and found himself back on the ice, where Leslie was poised over Priest with an empty syringe in her hand. She looked at Phil and smiled. "I've got a pulse," she announced.

Phil looked over to see Priest's eyes flicker open. He squinted against the light. "Damn," he muttered, "that was weird." He looked up and saw Phil sitting there. "You..." He foundered for words. "You... brought me back," he said weakly as he raised up a little.

Phil nodded.

Priest nodded back. "Thanks." He laid back and sighed. "I'm gonna remember you threatened to kick my ass," he said menacingly. "Buddy."

"He's out," Leslie said. "He's badly hurt. But he'll live." She began applying tourniquets and bandages to Priest's numerous wounds.

Neither Leslie nor Phil spoke for a long moment.

Finally Leslie cleared her throat. "That was... amazing," she said. "I've seen things that I won't be allowed to talk about until I tell my grandchildren. But that was the most amazing thing I've ever seen."

Phil shrugged. "I did what I had to do." He smiled. "And believe it or not," he said, indicating the unconscious Priest, "he would've done the same for me."

Leslie returned to her work. "I felt you," she said. "When you were in his head... I felt it. We... connected, somehow."

Phil nodded in agreement. "I anchored myself in you," he explained. "I knew that if I started to slip... you'd be there to catch me."

The former bounty hunter looked at him and smiled." I could see things. Things in your mind."

Phil's eyebrows went up. "Really?" He paused. "And?"

Leslie sighed. "I saw you. The way you feel. About me."

Phil grinned. "I'm not surprised."

Leslie Kline closed her eyes. "It felt... so... amazing." She looked up and sighed again. "I suddenly knew your heart, and I knew what's going on behind those eyes of yours when you look at me." She beamed. "It was incredible."

Phil's face flushed. He chuckled. "Well... I'm glad you approve."

Leslie put a hand on one of Phil's and looked into his eyes. "I love you," she breathed.

"I love you too," Phil replied.

"Do you two need to be alone?" a familiar voice asked from above.

Phil looked up. "Oh... Brianna." He laughed. "Ummm... hey."

"Grissom was worried," the winged girl explained. "He sent me to make sure things were okay."

"They're... they're fine," Leslie said, unable to tear her eyes from Phil.

"Priest needs more medical attention," Phil said. "But we're okay."

Brianna shook her head and smiled. "So I can see."

"How... much of that... did you overhear?" Phil asked timidly.

Brianna laughed. "The two of you need help." She winked. "I'll go tell Grimm about the Priest situation."

And with that, the slender, winged Irishwoman fluttered off, leaving an unconscious Priest and a rather embarrassed Phil Smith and Leslie Kline behind.

Outside things were getting worse and worse. Phil Smith stepped in front of Leslie Kline, who leaned over the unconscious body of Priest. While the T5 drones had stopped coming in massive amounts, there seemed to be a never ending supply of brainwashed soldiers. The good guys were quickly being forced back, in both a desire to not kill innocents (like they were) but also from the sheer force in numbers that Nea had compiled.

The three Vanguards were now totally surrounded.

Grissom’s voice rang through Phil’s head <You can do this Phil!>

“Um, Griss, buddy, there are hundreds of them. I have been barely able to unlock one at a time, let alone…”

<Okay, I didn’t want to have to do this, but Mr. Walker had a plan.>

“Oh Gob no-“

<Turner has the ability to manipulate electricity, including brain activity.>

“You want him to amplify my powers…”

<…to uncanny levels. I have no idea what this would mean for your own mind…>

“…But in theory I should be strong enough to free hundreds of innocents saving their and our lives.”

Leslie stared into Phil’s eyes and reached for him. With a wink, and a whisper of “I’ll be right back,” Phil threw his hands into the air, sending a small TK wave out pushing the advancing soldiers back a few steps, buying time for Priest and Leslie and he flu straight into the air.

Waiting for him in midair was Agent Turner.

“Let’s do this” Phil said and without any words, Turner looked into the man’s eyes and shot a blast of pure electricity into Phil’s mind. The connection between the two men only lasted for a few moments, but the pain and satisfaction that Phil felt seemed like a lifetime. In an instant he opened his mind and a shockwave erupted from Phil’s body sending a title wave of raw power and emotion over everyone on the battle field.

In a split second, Phil Smith was able to reach into everyone’s mind. And in .02 of a nanosecond, he was able to free the minds of those in Nea’s dark hold. Phil violently shook, blood rushing from his nose and veins ripping from his forehead. A streak of white appeared in his hair and in just a blink of an eye, it was over. The extra energy was released from his mind and Phil’s body slowly fell towards the ground, only to be caught by Agent Turner. Turner gentle landed besides Leslie and Priest, placing Phil on the ground.

The once chief of the MCCA pressed a button on his belt. “I.G.O.R we need medics and we need them fast. Two soldiers down and badly wounded. Hundreds of others who will need a truck load of Advil.”

Leslie held Phil in her arms, gently sliding her hand down his cheek. He slept, his expression peaceful, his dreams about her.

The ground began to shake violently, trembling out of control. All fighting throughout the icy lands began to cease, even as the last few combatants fell to the might of the brave armada that had stood here this day. A wall of white plumed from the continuing collapse of the mountain-sized fortress, rippling after the pulse of esoteric-blue light....

"What the hell was that?!!" Ozzy yelled above the roar, grasping a cleft of ice for support as the wave of blue passed silently.

Rowena crouched against the same cleft, leaning down as a few stray boulders of ice flipped overhead.

"Would you prefer the metaphysical explanation, or, the succinct one?" her alarmingly soothing voice spoke above the din of chaos.

"The one I'll understand..." Baxter replied, gritting his teeth, hail-sized ice shrapnel beginning to rain throughout the battlefield.

Rowena squinted at the billowing-white destruction emanating from the still-collapsing rubble of the fortress.

"...Death is pissed..."

With an inertia-defying solid stance, Turkish's faith reached out from wide-spread hands, buffeting the five-story billow that rolled towards the armies of Earth. In conjunction, Auguste Tallmoore erected a pyrokinetic field of dancing atoms, the ensuing nuclear heat eating the blast recoil of such an event.

On the outer perimeter of the battlefield, a strong waft of stinging ice hailed the powdery snow. Almost silouetted by the debris, the form of Tobias Christopher lay silently, random pops of a quasi-electrical signature flickering off his still body.

And, suddenly, a pair of feet appeared next to his head, a shadow falling over his body. Just as suddenly, a hand clenched the speedster's vunerable throat, beginning to squeeze...

"Fsterthnyu" a quick vibrational hum drifted over the growing gale.

Amuck stared down at the man, savoring the moment. A smile began to curl through a blurry countenance.

Suddenly, a hand appeared around his throat...

"Mr. Christopher is currently a guest of my realm..." the crystal-clear voice of Morpheus spoke. "...and, thus, he is under my protection..."

Amuck paused, not quite sure what to make of this being that suddenly appeared next to him.

Morpheus leaned in close, his mouth parting with a defintive breath of power...

"...you are fast..." his voice whispered behind the man's right ear. "...but, are you faster.....than your dreams?"

Amuck sneered with the stalemate.

"...everyone falls asleep, sooner or later..." Morpheus said, even as Amuck began to loosen his grip on Tobias. "...and I will always be there..."

Amuck's eyes narrowed.

"...waiting..."

With a quick movement, Amuck released Tobias completely, standing fully up. Morpheus did the same.

There was a sharp growl from the metahuman, and, like lighting....he was gone.

Near the epicenter of the event, large boulders of ice began to erupt from the explosive battle between Grimm and Naecken. Chunks the size of homes began to crash with shuddering force all over the land, metas doing everything they can to protect themselves.

"Z!" Turkish barked above the rumble of ice. "Start the evacuation!"

The wide-eyed Z peeked from around behind Turkish's flailing robes, staring into the violent eruption of white rolling in place only a few feet away.

"Bloody fucking right!" she yelled in a fearful panic, the torrent of icy wind buffeting her haphazard dye-job of blonde, orange, blue, and purple.

Immediately, wormholes began appearing throughout the icy wasteland.

//This is Phil Smith on a radiopathic frequency three-centimeters north of your endocephalic ganglia....exits are being provided even as we speak....// a voice suddenly announced to the populace of warriors. //....all human military and civilian personnel withdraw immediately...//

The La Perdita resistance, along with the armed forces, began retreating into the blossoming whirlpools of bluish-white. Squadrons of F-16's and Stealthbombers peeled from the skies, the sonic boom of afterburners flaring in their wake.

//...this is Vanguard's fight, now...//

Even as the armada of fighters began to retreat, one pushed ahead, near the eruption of ice.

"ARE YOU CRAZY?!" Tayden yelled above the deafening winds, his blood-drenched thermal gear still bearing the marks of his former vacation to the afterlife. He pulled against Mick's arm, even as the Vanguardian pushed forward.

"I HAVE TO!" Mick yelled. "LARRY AND VELO ARE STILL IN THERE!"

His voice barely pierced the torrential waves of force emanating across the plains.

"THERE'S NOTHING WE CAN DO NOW!" the ex-angel pleaded.

"GODDAMMIT!! I HAVE TO!!" Mick yelled with an uncharacteristic fury. "I'M THE ONLY ONE THAT CAN SAVE THEM! I'M THE ONLY ONE THAT CAN STOP THIS!!"

Mick was tired. And, even above the raor of destruction, Tayden could hear the fatigue in his voice.

In his soul.

Gone was the happy-go-lucky man that he was. Instead, he was man suddenly driven. His physical form racked with exhaustion...injury. And, yet, a primal obsession seemed to permeate him. Expand and grow in his rising emotions.

"MICK YOU WILL DIE IN THERE!!" Tayden yelled with equal force, trying to talk some sense into his manic friend.

"BUT LARRY--"

"IS GONE, MICK!! HE AND VELO ARE GONE!!"

Mick's face contorted instantly into a red-faced rage...

...and, Tayden's eyes widened, as he felt something akin to nails being drug along his soul...

"NO!!!"

************

The deck of the Nibru station suddenly trembled without warning. Jack Merlin's eyes jerked from his strategic revelry, even as he rose from his command chair...

"...what the hell was that...?"

*************

In the epicenter of Antarctica's 'Ground Zero', the dwarfing mountains of icy rubble wrapped two of Earth's mightiest figures in a walled arena of constant chaotic struggle. Ice splintered, and the ground quaked, with the muffled grunts and primal growls emanating from the two warriors.

Grimm spun his axe high, coming down hard with a single shot at Naecken's sternum. The dark lord stopped the blade cold, as two impossibly strong hands slapped against the flat side of the metal. The bare tip of the blade resting for a split-second against Naecken's powerful chest, the ex-MBLer kicked Grimm full-on in the stomach, sending the Vanguardian colliding with a collapsing wall of ice.

Naecken flipped the axe into his grasp, even as Grimm burst from the avalanche. Swinging the flat-blade like a baseball bat, Naecken began swatting Grimm back-and-forth; splinters of bone peeling from his skulled visage with every shot.

Grimm staggered for only a moment, as the powerful blows clipped the side of his head repeatedly. Then, jutting one arm out, he caught Naecken's wrist, halting it instantly.

Two massive shots to Naecken's face staggered the dark being back a few steps, even as the third took him completely off his feet. The axe yanked violently from his grasp, as the icy ground slammed into his back.

There was a double-stepped launch, and Grimm vaulted straight above him, raring the axe over his head. Naecken jerked his head to the side, the gleaming blade slicing into the ground next to his ear. Throwing his right palm out, a sizzling burst of hellfire bathed Grimm, catapulting the giant off his feet again...

Outside the perimeter of rubble, Tayden sat knelt in the snow, his head down.

He was praying.

"TAYDEN!" Brianna yelled, swooping down hard against the billowing winds. "ARE YOU OKAY?"

Tayden's face raised to meet hers. Bri found herself pausing, noticing the two single tears rolling down his cheeks.

"WHAT IS IT?" she yelled, kneeling down next to him. "WHAT'S WRONG?"

A small smile came over his face...

"...it's over..." he said, his raspy voice never reaching her ears. "...it's all over..."

She couldn't hear his words, but the deafening gale of chaos had already iced the tips of her wings to the point of pain.

"COME ON...WE HAVE TO GO!" she yelled, cradling the man in her arms.

And, as they took flight along the massive torrents of wind erupting from the destruction, Tayden looked back at the ground. At the tracks....the footsteps....leading into the hazy cloud of chaos.

"...Mick..." he whispered.

*************

"What the hell's going on?!" Jack Merlin barked, shoving Adalia Perigord from the Ops station. He began punching keys on the console before him, even as Captain Ekorre scurried around the bridge.

"As I said..." Adalia huffed with irritation. "...coordinates are changing on their own..."

"Impossible!" Merlin yelled, slamming a button. "Brain! What the hell's going on?!"

"...if...if I live....in a field....would I eat the grass? This is what I ask you....father....is there room enough for two-for-the-price-of-one? I think that it's all rather silly, and in need of a critical juncture....something smelling like bacon, perhaps..."

Jack's eyes squinted at the rambling nonsense coming over the comm system.

"Brain?" he asked again.

Suddenly, a massive quake ripped throughout the bridge. Consoles exploded, as the lights began to shower sparks. Metal framework splintered through the air like shrapnel, as the port-side of the bridge erupted in explosive flames. Merlin found himself crawling along the sterile, metal floor, the sharp red hue of the emergency lights his only guidance.

||WARNING||INERTIAL STABILIZERS FAILING|| the digital voice of the computer system began to announce. ||NOW ENTERING THE ATMOSPHERE||

****************

Humming sparks exploded off hellfire-shields in conjunction with the slicing force of the silver axe. Swatting back and forth, death's blade hummed with biting force as it split the very air in a blue-strobed effect. Grimm lunged again, a dancing wreathe of fiery-red flames licking his dry, white face. The axe found anchor, slicing straight down Naecken's left foot, effectively nailing the former ally to the ground.

There were no words, save the brief roar of pain escaping Naecken's lips. Grimm instantly released the handle, diving full-on into the former ally...

Noticed by neither party, a single figure crawled up out of an opening in the icy wall. Pulling his body fully out of the mish-mash of enormous boulders, Mick dropped to the ground. The snow biting against his numb cheeks, he lay there panting from the extreme exertion. Trying to find his strength.

He was very tired.

Twenty-feet away, the combatants struggled with endless howls of rage and pain, tossing each other back and forth into the continually shattering ice.

Mick struggled to his feet, ever so slowly. His aching muscles, and rasping breath painting a picture of angony over his features. His already pale face hinting at blue from the cold, peered at his surroundings, trying to find his senses.

Where? Where were they? Where was...

He stopped, staring over to his far right.

Velo. He was still standing there, his stone form locked with an eeire gaze of anger and aggression.

He was in one piece.

Thank God.....Mick thought to himself.

His vision blurred, catching the side of his cranium with a gloved hand. He shook his head, briefly, blinking hard.

...not yet....not yet, please...

Where was Larry?

Mick searched around him, squinting with a startled jerk every so often, as Grimm and Naecken continued their destruction.

Where was he?

Mick suddenly stopped, his eyes steadying on, what looked to be, the lower-half of a stone figure...

No.

No. No. No.

Mick scrambled along the ground, his face contorting with panic.

"Larry?" he asked, crawling up to the remains. "Larry?!"

The stone was broken along the waist. The top half of Larry Lance's torso lying next to it.

The look on his face.....frozen with suprise....

Mick's eyes welled up with tears, even as he began gritting his teeth. He dropped his head, his fist clenching with a trembling anger....

***********

Turkish's eyes narrowed.

His arms still held wide, holding back what was left of the billowing cloud of icy death, he slowly rolled his vision towards the skies above...

"...Z..." he spoke towards the mirror on the fold of his left sleeve, adjusting his wrist to see Alice's reflection. "....prepare for mass-evacuation..."

***********

"Fall, you bastard....FALL!!"

Grimm's voice roared, pounding away against his adversary. Naecken grabbed Grimm by the shoulders, immediately flinging him into the nearest wall of ice.

"NEVER!!"

Grimm broke the hold, spinning Naecken around, face-first into the ice. The shattering off-white sprayed in splintered chuncks, as the avatar drug the being's head across the frozen surface with rending force. Naecken slammed his fingertips talon-first into the wall, halting the path instantly. Then, with a grunt, lunged back, throwing both combatants off their feet.

Rolling back up instantly, Grimm slammed Naecken with a right-cross. Naecken's mouth spit a black, oily substance, even as his eyes flared with hellish light.

The resulting explosion shot Grimm into the wall of rubble. Collapsing close to three tons worth of debris down upon his body, the icy mass enveloped the Vanguardian's powerful form.

"You simply do not understand my power..." Naecken spoke with a panted breath, wiping the black 'blood' from the corner of his mouth.

He began walking towards the pile of unmoving rubble.

"No!"

Naecken turned to see Mick standing a few feet away. And, even though his voice cracked with rage, as the light of hatred burned in his eyes, Naecken could instantly see the frailty of the man.

"You simply don't understand MINE!" he yelled at the dark being before him. "I'm giving you one....last....chance, Naecken! Surrender!"

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" Naecken chuckled, staring down at the frail form before him. "Oh, Mick....you always were good for a laugh...."

He raised a single hand, blowing Mick off his feet.

Mick clawed at the ground, the pain wracking his senses. He felt nauseous for a moment. Then, with a final surge of strength, lifted his head from the snow, opening his mouth...

"...Mxy..."

************

The bridge of the Nibru shook violently, as warning alarms and voices screamed throughout the chaos. Thick, black smoke filled the stale air, as the lights dimmed to almost complete darkness. The deck itself tilted at an almost ninety-degree angle...

||WARNING||WARNING||OUTER HULL BREACHED ON DECKS THIRTEEN, FOURTEEN, FIFTEEN, SIX--||

Jack Merlin ignored the screeching alarms, crawling up the floor. Strong fingertips clenched the seperations in the metallic plating, scaling the surface with a determined expression.

"...and even as the Strikeforce valiantly defended the human populace against this dreaded enemy in Antarctica..." he recited to himself with a pleased snarl, pausing to grunt as he clutched the next plating. "...our very home was attacked by the dreaded meta menace..."

"{{{MERLIN!!}}}"

Jack paused, coughing a bit from the smoke, as he peered down at the alien captain Ekorre. The alien was embedded in the viewscreen, holding the bloody body of his daughter, Adalia. The thin, strip of metal plating still sat in the front of her skull, her open-eyed expression of shock frozen forever more.

Jack's eyes gained a satisfied glaze...

"...there were no survivors..." he mumbled with a grin, continuing his climb.

"{{{DAMN YOU, MERLIN!!}}}" the alien dialect trailed into Merlin's ears, even as he reached the emergency transport.

He did not look back, crawling into the glass tube.

"{{{YOU HAVE BROUGHT OUR DESTRUCTION!!}}}" the voice screamed. "{{{I WILL FIND YOU MERLIN!!}}}"

...Merlin smiled, hitting the transport button...

"{{{I WILL FIND YOU.....EVEN IN HELL!!!}}}"

The transport tube flared, and Jack was gone.

*************

Naecken's eyes narrowed with delight.

"FINALLY!" he practically yelled. "Finally, you face me!"

The glowing god-form of Mxy stood before him, light made of pink champagne flowing from his form.

But, something was different. Something was....wrong.

There was no cackle. No laughter. No rambling nonsense, or varied expressions of wonder and glee.

He was serious.

Mxy stood there, his inherent power wafting from his form, deadly serious.

"Time's up, Naecken." he spoke, his voice coming clear, and precise.

"Oh, my dear, dear friend....it's just getting started..." Naecken replied. "With you gracing my presence, I can find final closure to that nagging question...."

Mxy nodded with a sneer.

"Who's more powerful, right?" Mxy asked. "Who's the 'big dog', huh? The 'head honcho'? That's what this has all been about. The Gates of Hell....the domination of the planet....it's all icing on the cake to what's really plaguing you, isn't it?"

Naecken smiled.

"It always followed us around, you and I..." Naecken replied. "...the feeling of adversarial tension....the need to know...."

The skies above began to darken with an odd shadow....

"Your need to know, Naecken. Not mine." Mxy said with an air of disgust. "That's why you kidnapped 'other-me'. Not only to lure the presence of someone like Tayden here..."

...the shadow deepened, as inflections of lighting began dancing across the clouds....

Naecken's eyes glanced up, the atmospheric brew beginning to catch his notice.

"....but, in hopes that I would come out and face you..."

"It does my heart good to know how well I can count upon the predictability of this pathetic species...." Naecken smiled. "...and here you are..."

...the ground began to tremble violently, avalanches of ice starting to tumble down the ruins...

"....ready to finally face me....as an equal..."

Mxy's eyes narrowed with obvious pity.

"My equal?!" Mxy gasped. "You poor, poor, pathetic fool.....don't you see?"

The skies above suddenly ripped asunder with electromagnetic upheaval, as the nosecone of the Nibru station flared against the deep atmosphere with an apocalyptic illumination.

...Naecken slowly raised his head, staring up into the horizon-encompassing mass of flame...

"...I've been holding back on you the entire time...."

Naecken opened his mouth in a roar of defiance, as the Nibru collided with the continent of Antarctica!!

The effect of something the size of Greenland colliding with the planet was, as to be expected, an extinction-level-event. The impact could have been seen from space, as a ball of quasi-nuclear flame erupted out of the atmosphere.

Standing on the surface of the Atlantic Ocean, Turkish, along with a recently arrived Scion, called forth every last ounce of their power, negating as much of the impact's effects as possible.

Off the coast of Australia, Tallmoore shifted between Auguste and Simon repeatedly, trying to contain the magma pressure of the fractured planetary crust, while at the same time, hold the punctured electromagnetic field of the planet together.

Standing on a mountainside in Japan, the avatar of Life itself calmed the spirit of nature....calmed the populace of the planet....calmed all living things. She was in a deep negotiation with Gaea, trying to persuade her not to die.

And, the assembled might of the Vanguardian forces looked on from the skimming transports at the glowing explosion on the horizon.

"...oh.....god..." Phil breathed, Z leaning over his shoulder. She was braced against his chair, her face pouring with sweat. "...did....did you get...."

Z nodded her head, trying to catch her breath.

"...got....got everybody I could..." she replied between pants.

Phil nodded, opening up a signal to the EPS transport just off its starboard wing.

"...Walker, this is Phil Smith...." he said into the mic. "...return to La Perdita with your load.....I'm taking the Stormloader back to Antarctica...."

*************

It was almost ten minutes before the explosion had ceased at ground zero. The once battlefield of Antarctica was barren and black, scorched for hundreds and hundreds of miles around.

And, in a crater the size of England, a single figure was almost motionless.

Naecken....on his knees.....trying with all of his power to stay up....

"...not...enough.....never...enough"

And, suddenly, a dark form appeared standing behind him.....

Sometime during all the battles in La Perdita:

The former member of La Perdita's PSI-Unit named Axel entered the communications room in which Grissom Montag was directing the battlefield in Antarctica. Vanguard International's Security Advisor was speaking into his headset almost non-stop, pausing to listen every once in a while before directing someone else as to their enemy's movements.

Axel stood back, not wishing to interrupt him but needing to talk to someone in charge. Grissom spoke several urgent directives into his headset while watching several monitors showing details of what appeared to be satellite imagery, some photographic and some based on infrared heat differences. Still another group of monitor screens flashed between several scenes which seemed to be coming from some kind of strange laboratory populated by a few scientists with glazed eyes.

After several moments Grissom Montag finally took his headset off, swiveled around in his seat, and stared with an impatient expression on his face directly at the (almost) 12-year-old brown-haired boy behind him. "Did you get a good look, boy?"

"What?" Axel replied, taken aback. He could sense irritation from Vanguard's security expert without even tuning in with his empathic ability.

"It's an impressive setup, innit?" Grissom said in a somewhat challenging tone. "Pretty graphics and realistic action, hm? Probably as good or better than most of th' video games on the market, eh wot?"

"I guess."

"Well, if you don't mind, boy," Grissom said, "some of us have got some fairly urgent work t'do here. Do you want t'help us out?"

Axel frowned, sensing a trap in his words, and simply nodded.

"Then for God's sake, boy, get out of the way! This is no time to be underfoot while the grown-ups have work to do. Understand?"

"Whatever," Axel replied, leaving the room.

"Kids," Grissom Montag spat as he put his headset back into place, swiveled back to the monitor screens, and got back to directing the battlefield.

Axel felt hurt by the exchange despite himself. Here he was trying to warn someone about a possible intruder in the building, and Grissom Montag wasn't going to even let him say a thing about it. He felt like he wanted to go to the room that Dr. Quantos had set up for him a few hours earlier and play some video games or get on the internet or something, and just forget about the whole thing.

However, he'd sensed a strange presence in the building and knew he had to tell someone about it since he was probably the only one aware of a possible intruder despite his lessened abilities. The telepathy and telekinesis of the individual members of the PSI-Unit always seemed more powerful when they were with other members, which was why they were almost always paired up with each other. Something about their being around each other boosted their psychic abilities greatly. When they were at their full membership of seven, or nine if their adult trainers Marc and Tanya were with them, their power was at its peak and they were nigh unstoppable. Axel, being the youngest and the seventh member, was always the odd boy out, though Devlin and Guida almost always took him under their wings whenever the group had to split into three teams, the other two teams being the young couple Stefano and Daniela, and the twins Kevin and Brianna. Even though Axel's psychic powers were at its lowest ebb without the presence of the others, he still retained those diluted abilities and was occasionally able to cause himself to hover in place as well as sense emotions and sometimes even surface thoughts if they were strong enough. And he knew that there were one too many presences in the building than there should have been.

To confirm this, Axel had even gone earlier to one of the security monitors and counted off the names as they appeared on the screen next to tiny yellow dots. Some of them were moving, such as Charley Montoya and the Perditian workers she had brought in to repair the wall (each of which had been assigned a number for the security sweep in order to prevent them from being seen as intruders), while some were stationary, such as Grissom Montag and Miss X. When he had checked the monitors, Dr. Quantos was nowhere to be found, and Axel correctly guessed that he had taken Mandy for a walk around the block or something. Still, there was one extra presence in the building that he could sense with his psychic abilities which was not accounted for in the security system. He'd had no luck with Grissom Montag, and Dr. Quantos was still outside somewhere, so Axel went upstairs towards Miss X's office.

*************

Dr. Henry Quantos was silent and completely lost in thought over the events of the last few days even as he tried not to think of those events as he approached the rear courtyard doors. The security sensors recognized him and allowed him to enter. He followed Mandelovia inside and made sure the door closed properly even as the dog began shaking all the moisture from her fur. He began walking towards the laboratory zone which he oversaw for the company.

*************

Axel approached Miss X's door and was about to knock when he sensed that Dr. Quantos had returned. He hovered in place and wondered whether he should bother Miss X now or not.

"It's all right, Axel -- please do come in," Victoria Xiang spoke in an impeccably perfect uppercrust English accent through a speaker next to the door, an old-fashioned dark brown mahogany affair, which now clicked open.

Axel went inside and saw Miss X standing before the large, sliding window doors which opened onto the balcony outside. She turned towards him with a kind smile and motioned him forward with the merest flick of the wrist. Miss X seemed to be lost in thought as she watched a flock of birds flying swiftly around through the sky and perfectly in formation as if they were of one mind. Dividing his attention between those birds and the Vanguard International President, Axel found that he could not read her. Victoria Xiang's mind was like a calm, cool, round stone giving off no emotions whatsoever. He wondered if she was really as calm inside as she seemed to be.

"They're quite beautiful, aren't they?" she said to him, granting him another rare smile.

"Yeah," the boy replied, glancing at the birds for a moment before turning back to her.

"So," Miss X said as she sat down into her leatherback chair before her desk and looked up at him, "what brings you to see me, Axel?"

The boy blushed under her gaze and found himself unable to look her in the eyes or remember exactly what he'd planned to say. "I'm not... uh... well, there was some... I could feel a..."

"Go on," Miss X prompted. "Did you sense something, then?"

"Yes," Axel said, matching her gaze for a moment. "The monitors -- I checked them a little bit earlier and, like, they didn't show everyone in the building. I mean, y'know, they showed everyone who's supposed to be here and all, but..."

"Mmm-hm?"

"The security system says there are only six people in the building, but I could feel seven minds here," Axel finally blurted out.

"I see," Victoria Xiang said, frowning as she turned to her desk's screen and punched up the security system. She looked at the security screen Axel had viewed earlier and said, "Well, there you have it, Axel -- there are seven people in the building. Good show."

"No, I didn't mean that." Axel said in a frustrated voice as Miss X's right eyebrow shot up and she looked at him with an amused expression she reserved only for small children and mentally-disturbed adults. "I mean, Doc Quantos wasn't here before. He was, like, outside taking Mandy for a walk before, or something like that I think. He just got back inside -- I could feel him when he did. But before I felt seven people in the building when the security system only showed just six."

"Hmm. Perhaps you mistook the dog for a person?"

"But she was outside, too, with the Doc!"

"Right, right. Well, perhaps it was the cat you sensed, then. I believe Tobias Christopher calls it 'Little Jo'?"

"It wasn't a cat!" Axel cried. "I mean, I think I can tell the difference between a human being and a stupid cat. It was something else I felt -- a person! I think someone's in the building."

Victoria Xiang rose from her chair and began walking Axel to the door. "I understand how confusing this must all be, young Master Axel," she said in a soothing tone. "And I can also understand why you may feel unsafe even here after the experiences I've been told that you have been through. The loss of all your friends in the PSI-Unit must have been horrible. However, you have absolutely no reason to feel unsafe here, Axel. This is the most secure facility on this island -- it is likely the most secure building in the entire Lesser Antilles chain of islands. Mr. Montag has installed a security system of his own design which cannot be 'fooled' by even the most brilliant of intruders. I can assure you that if there was an intruder in this building, either he or I would be the first to know of it."

She opened the door and brought him outside. "Don't worry, Axel," she said to him, "you're in one of the safest places on Earth right now. No harm can come to you here. Now go on, I'm sure Dr. Quantos will be looking for you." She added in a matronly tone, "Now there's a good lad."

"But--"

"Good-bye." The door clicked shut behind her.

Axel growled. During his time with the PSI-Unit, he'd had more experience in protecting La Perdita than anyone in Vanguard had, but so far everyone here treated him as if he was just some stupid kid who was scared of the Boogeyman or something. Nobody was willing to listen to him.

Well... maybe not. Maybe Dr. Quantos would hear him out.

*************

Dr. Henry Quantos fumbled with the locks on his laboratory door and finally got them open. He flicked his hand over the switches to turn the lights on, but as he turned back to let his dog in, he realized that none of the lights had turned on at all. He flipped the switches up and down and sighed. "It's those damned workers again, I'll bet. Probably shorted out the fusebox. Wait here, Mandy."

Vanguard International's Medical and Scientific Advisor made his way to a desk drawer and pulled out a slim flashlight after a moment of fumbling through it. Clicking it on, he walked through to a far panel in the laboratory and opened up the fusebox. "Hmm... strange," he mumbled to himself as he noticed that none of the circuit breakers had flipped. There appeared to be nothing wrong with the electricity from this end. Could all of the lights have burnt out at the same time? That wasn't very likely at all. Too much of a coincidence to be sure.

He closed the fusebox panel door and turned around, at the same time as he heard a sound somewhere in his laboratory. He became utterly quiet and squinted, trying to see in the room which had no light except that which came from outside. After a moment of silence, he said in a louder-than-usual voice, "Who's there?"

Dr. Quantos passed his flashlight across the room a few times, very slowly, as he walked carefully around, his keen eyes scanning everything in his vision. The beam of his flashlight passed across a filing cabinet and kept going, but after a second his mind told him that he'd seen something strange. The light had seemed to ripple ever so slightly as it passed the filing cabinet. He swung the flashlight back towards it but found nothing strange.

That was when he felt an arm grip his neck, a moment before he blacked out.

*************

The old Canadian doctor woke up with a splitting headache as he felt a hand slapping his face a few times. A harsh voice whispered from somewhere above him in a familiar accent, "Where are they, Dr. Quantos? Where are the files?"

"Wha-what...?" he replied, his mind still groggy.

"Your daughter sent you a package full of scientific files, Dr. Quantos. Tell me where they are."

Dr. Henry Quantos finally recognized the accent. "You're--you're from Mandelovia."

"The files, Dr. Quantos. Where are the files?"

"Why...? Why can't I see you?"

The Mandelovian laughed once. "Now that question surprises me, Dr. Quantos. Are you seriously telling me that you don't recall developing the personal cloaking device?"

"The... the what?"

"You took the concept from an American television program. Star-something-or-other. The basic idea behind the personal cloaking device is to use fabric made of optic fibers which act as both a camera and a viewer. For instance, a glove made from this fabric placed on a desk would blend in with the desk by filming the appearance of the desk below it and transmit that appearance to the top of the glove, while also adjusting the light levels to remove all shadows. If one could look from beneath the glove, all that could be seen is the ceiling. I'm told primitive versions of the personal cloaking device are being developed in America, though they are as nothing compared with the Mandelovian technology you created. Your security system, though impressive by non-Mandelovian standards, stood no chance against an Elite Agent with a personal cloaking device. It not only makes one invisible to human eyes, but it also causes invisibility to any electronic sensors."

Dr. Quantos made a show of listening to this, though his mind was set on the question the Mandelovian had asked him earlier. He wanted the files. The files detailing a workable time travel machine. He had to be working for the General. "I... I don't recall any of this," he said in a somewhat confused voice.

The man laughed again cruelly. "No, I don't suppose you would, Dr. Quantos. We made sure to block all classified information from your mind before you were allowed to leave Mandelovia. I'm sure your Miss X would inform you of much of your missing memories. That is, she would if she had not been placed under a hypnotic command never to reveal any Mandelovian secrets under fear of instant death. You did well not to become a citizen of Mandelovia, Dr. Quantos. Your memories were merely blocked. Miss Xiang, on the other hand, as a naturalized citizen must pay a costlier price if she betrays my nation. I imagine there are a great many things she would love to tell you and your team... if only she could." He laughed once more. "Now, enough of this 'chit-chat,' Dr. Quantos. Tell me where you put the files."

"No," Dr. Quantos replied evenly.

"You will tell me where they are. I have many methods to make you talk. However, I do not wish to see you come to harm. Merely tell me where they are and I will leave you unharmed."

"I won't," the Canadian doctor replied, "and you can tell Colton D'goon to go to hell."

The Mandelovian sighed. "Please, Dr. Quantos. Though I'm under orders not to kill you, I can make your life very unpleasant in order to get what I want. Your precious Vanguardians are all absent. There is no one around to help you any longer. I do not wish to cause pain to the father of Helen McKenzie, but I will do so if it proves necessary."

Dr. Quantos sat up and looked at a spot next to him which was slightly distorted during movement, the light refracted as if curving around space, a moment before the figure of a man all in black became visible. "What do you know of my daughter?" Henry Quantos breathed. "Who are you?"

"Call me Agent X. I met your daughter during her time in Mandelovia. She and I... shared a few moments together."

The Canadian frowned. "Where is she?" he said in a low, commanding voice not unlike a growl. "Where is my daughter?"

Agent X sighed and shook his head. "She's gone, Dr. Quantos. I'm sure you can guess where... or perhaps that should be when."

So it was true, Dr. Quantos realized. Time travel had been discovered in Mandelovia, and his daughter had been part of some kind of time travel project as he supposed, finally using herself as a "guinea pig" in an experimental time travel voyage. Something about this didn't make sense to him, though.

"Why do you need those time travel files?" he said aloud, as much to himself as to the other. "Unless... yes, that must be it. My daughter cut the General out, didn't she? She destroyed all the time travel research before traveling in time herself, and... and the files she sent me are the only ones still in existence, aren't they?"

"Very astute, Doctor. You are as clever as your daughter."

"So she is safe from that bastard after all," Dr. Quantos said, smiling a genuine smile for the first time in days. "D'goon can't touch her."

"The files, Dr. Quantos. Now. I will give you no further warning."

"The files? Oh... oh, right. The files. The General needs those files, does he? Well, I'll tell you where the files are, then..."

*************

Axel found Mandy in the lobby on the first floor on the other side of the building. He sat slumped on a chair in disappointment and regret even as the dog tried to cheer him up by licking his face and getting him to pet her.

"I think you're the only friend I have here, Mandy," he said as he scratched the dog gently behind her ears. "To them I'm just some dumb kid that Doc Quantos picked up, aren't I? Well, I don't care. I don't care at all." His voice was choked up somewhat as he felt sorry for himself.

"Maybe there is some burglar or something in the building," he said. "What can I do about it? Nobody's willing to listen to me when I tell them, so why should I care?"

A memory flashed through his mind suddenly as he said this: The oldest member of the PSI-Unit, Devlin, explaining to him when he was 8 years old why it was so important to do what they did. To protect La Perdita as the island's very own "super-heroes" was not something they did to become famous or make money. It wasn't about the fans. It was about the people. They counted on the PSI-Unit to protect them from any and all unusual threats, and they had to trust that their heroes wouldn't let them down. They had to trust that the PSI-Unit always cared about their safety. As La Perdita's first line of defense, if they knew about a danger that no one else could sense through conventional means, it was their duty to do something about it.

Axel felt a pang of guilt for his selfishness and decided he couldn't just do nothing. If no one was willing to listen to him and do something about a possible intruder, he would have to do something himself.

*************

Dr. Henry Quantos felt somewhat light-headed as the blood rushed back to his head after rising to his feet with the help of Agent X. After he regained his balance he motioned the Mandelovian Elite Agent forward, saying, "They're over here. Follow me."

"No tricks, Dr. Quantos."

"I know, I know. I'm well aware of the reputation of the Mandelovian Elite Agents. All 26 of you. Or is that 27?"

"The number of Mandelovia's Elite Agents has been 26 for just over a century now, though I am the last one."

"What?"

"I am the very last of the Elite Agents. All but two of us were killed by this U.N. Strikeforce. General D'goon sent me here, while the other, Agent Z, is... now dead."

"Zed's dead?"

"Yes."

Dr. Quantos chuckled under his breath and unlocked one of two small, lead-lined rooms used for experiments involving radiation.

"The files are in here?" Agent X asked suspiciously.

"They're in here somewhere."

"Find them."

"Well, it would be easier if the lights were working. The batteries in this flashlight are almost dead."

"Damn it -- you try my patience, old man."

Dr. Henry Quantos' glanced at the laboratory door for a moment and turned back to Agent X, an ingratiating smile on his face. "I'm sorry about that, but I have to rely on ordinary technology to get by, here. It's not like I have anything much to use from... Mandelovia!" The last word was a shout.

"Wha--?!" was all Agent X had time to say before he heard a loud bark and was struck by a big reddish dog which caused him to fall backwards into the room. Dr. Quantos slammed the door shut, which locked automatically.

Agent X began slamming on the door. Dr. Quantos laughed and said, "Good job, Mandy. You're a good dog, yes you are. Yes you are." The pounding on the thick door could barely be heard. The doctor pressed a button on the intercom next to the door, pleased to note that the power was still working for everything but the ceiling lights, and said through a speaker inside the room, "You won't get out of the room that way, I'm afraid. It doesn't do much good to pound against that door with human fists. Or do you have some kind of Mandelovian gizmo up your sleeve you haven't told me about?"

Agent X stopped pounding on the door and folded his arms, waiting for the next move.

"Oh, and those files you were looking for?" Dr. Quantos continued with amusement in his voice. "I just remembered... I left them in the other room. Silly me."

"Doc?" Axel said as he entered the room, having followed Mandy to the laboratory. "What's going--?"

"Go to your room, Axel."

"But--"

"Just go, son. You don't want any part of this, believe me."

Axel bit his lip and stepped back, though he stopped at the lab entrance.

Dr. Quantos had already turned back to the intercom. "Now, if you'll look to your left, you will see through the window the room in which I put the files in question. The files can be seen scattered on the table, and if you'll take a closer look, the Mandelovian seal can be seen on the letterhead. If I'd known you were coming, I might have tried switching them with clever fakes. However, regrettably enough those are the real deals, and I've been keeping them in that locked radiation room due to its being the most secure room in my lab. Next to the window you will see a locked door which leads into the room in which those files were left. If you can pick the lock, open the door, retrieve the files, return to this room, and close the door once again in the next 15 seconds, I'll let you go with those files. If, however, you can't make it within that timeframe, you'll be subjected to a lethal dose of radiation that no one -- not even the last Mandelovian Elite Agent -- could withstand. Got it?"

Agent X said nothing, simply standing still.

"I'll take that as a yes. Now, on your mark... get set... GO!" He then pressed a firing button for the other room, which counted down for 15 seconds. Agent X didn't move, knowing he'd been put in an impossible situation. Dr. Quantos was holding all the cards.

After 15 seconds, the room flashed, and the files left in that room were burnt to a crisp. Agent X stood in the same position as before.

"Now, I'm not sure what to do with you, Agent X," Dr. Quantos said. "If I let you go, you may go free and tell General D'goon the bad news. On the other hand, you might be a bad sport about the whole thing and cause someone here harm. I'm not sure what to do about you, frankly. I could leave you in there until the team gets back, but you might find a way out of the room by yourself before someone can properly secure you. The only way I can trust that you won't escape is to do to you what I did to those files. This is really a quandary -- we have an unknown result on our hands, here. Appropriate to your name, I should think, Agent X. So, what do you think? Should I press this button or shouldn't I?"

Agent X finally replied through the intercom. "I will not harm you or anyone in your organization, Dr. Quantos. You have my word."

"Your word, eh? Hmm... well, from my experience the word of a Mandelovian -- especially an Elite Agent -- is unbreakable, though you clever fellows always seem to find a way through the precise wording of your word to have your way, after all."

"You've destroyed the files, Dr. Quantos. That meant the end of my mission. I can do nothing but leave or die, now."

"And you promise to leave this place and leave me and my friends alone when you do so?"

"I give you my word."

Dr. Quantos sighed. "Fine, then. But first..." He pressed another button which unlocked and opened the door adjoining the other radiation room which had gone back to normal after the brief flash of radiation.

Smoke filled the room as Agent X stepped into the second room and stamped out the flames. All that was left were a few remaining pieces of burnt sheets. He inspected them closely and found that they were, indeed, the files he had been sent to La Perdita for.

"You're free to take those with you when you leave, Agent X," came the voice of Dr. Quantos over the intercom. "I'm sure the General will be pleased to know that, if he doesn't possess the secret of time travel any longer, no one outside Mandelovia or its time travel project possesses it either. I'm going to open the door now, Agent X. I expect that you will keep your word."

"There is nothing left to do here but leave," Agent X replied. "I have given my word."

"All right," Dr. Quantos replied, opening the door.

Agent X stepped out with the burnt fragments of the files. Dr. Quantos took a step back. "I said I would not harm you, Dr. Quantos..."

"Then leave."

"However," Agent X continued, "the General specified that he would like to... 'interview' you should the actual files be destroyed. You are the only one alive in this time who has seen them."

"You gave your word you would leave me alone," Dr. Quantos said, taking another step back.

"I gave you my word that you would not be harmed. As for leaving you alone, well, contrary to what you may have heard, it would not be the first time a Mandelovian broke a vow." Agent X lunged towards the old doctor.

"No!" said Axel, who had jumped between Agent X and Dr. Quantos. "Leave him alone!"

"Who the hell are you?!" Agent X exclaimed. "Well, it is no matter. Out of my way, child." He grabbed Axel by the shoulders and...

...the boy found himself in the future. He was seeing a memory from the future once again, though this one was not pleasant. He watched as a man -- he was sure it was Agent X -- was tied up to a pole, while before him stood several men in the uniforms of the National People's Army of Mandelovia, each of whom carried rifles. The stoic face of General Colton D'goon faced Agent X and gave the order to fire. It was a traitor's death...

The connection was suddenly broken.

Agent X jumped back as if he'd been electrically shocked. He looked at the boy more carefully now, not sure what had happened.

"He's going to kill you, you know," Axel said in a trembling voice. "General D'goon. He'll kill you for your failure."

Agent X himself took a step back, remaining silent.

After a moment, Dr. Quantos pulled Axel back, holding him defensively. "Leave," he said forcefully. "I don't care whether you go back to Mandelovia or go anywhere else in the world, but just leave. And leave us alone. If... if my daughter meant anything to you, you will leave us alone."

The last of the Mandelovian Elite Agents stood there for another moment, and then finally turned a moment before he became invisible again.

Dr. Quantos hugged Axel for several moments as they waited, until Axel said, "He's gone. Agent X has left the building."

"I thought he would," Dr. Quantos replied, his throat feeling somewhat sore. "Now what say we head over to the kitchen for some ice cream? I could use a snack right about now. How about you?"

"Sure," Axel said, smiling.

Dr. Henry Quantos led Axel out of the laboratory and down the corridor towards the kitchen. "Say, have I told you about my daughter?" Axel shook his head. "She's a beautiful girl with red hair -- looks just like her mother. When she was about your age........."

Slowly, Naecken pulled himself up off of the ground. He looked around wearily, there was no sign of Smith anywhere. Bah, he thought to himself, the weakling probably couldn't handle the overload. Once again, Kwaiziel is triumphant! He smiled as he took notice of the Vanguardians celebrating their seeming victory. Ah, little angel, it is time I finish what I started and summon my armies. . . As Naecken began to stand, he felt his throat grabbed from behind.

"Remember me, old pal?" Grimm hissed in Kwaiziel's ear. "Urkk!" Naecken responded. "Thought so." Grimm spun the still weak demon lord around and blasted him with a steel covered right cross. Naecken's jaw shattered as his spiked teeth flew out of his mouth. "That was for Mick!"

Grimm nailed the demon lord again with his left hand, shattering Naecken's eye socket and knocking his eyeball loose. "That was for scaring Shirley!" Naecken howled in pain, still weak from Smith's absorption. He attempted to punch Grimm, who dodged, grabbed Naecken's arm, and bent it backwards, hyperextending it and fracturing it just above the elbow. "That's for the people killed and hurt in Promethan City!" Naecken screamed in agony, the Vanguardians now alerted to the situation unfolding in front of them. "And this. . ." Grimm held up his left hand, as his axe rose up from it's resting place beneath a mound of snow. The axe landed in the hands of it's master, as he raised his arms above his head. "THIS IS FOR ME!!!!!!!" Grimm brought both of his arms down with full force cleaving Naecken's head in two all the way down to his sternum as blue light bathed everything in the immediate area. Naecken's body slumped back, the composite being finally dead.

*********************

The Vanguardians looked around the Antarctic. T5 robots lay shattered, their remains littering the landscape. The dead were everywhere. Metahumans, brainwashed normals held in thrall by Naecken and forced to fight against those that would free them, and of course, the Annunaki.

"Did we win?" Phil Smith asked, surveying the devastation. "Can we ever truly win in a situation like this?" Grimm answered. "Sometimes the best you can hope for is to survive. Let's go home, guys."

Everyone was getting ready to get back into the Stormloader, as Banshee flew around the whole area one last time, to see if she could find any survivors.

"But, where's Mick?" TC asked, worried.

"Didn't you see the Strikeforce ship crashing into Naecken's fortress?" Phil asked. "You think it crashed by itself?"

TC smiled. "So you think Mxy did it?"

"Yeah. He probably teleported himself back home by now. I just scanned this whole place and I can't feel any minds beside ours..."

"GUYS!" Banshee suddenly yelled from the air, "I FOUND MICK!!!"

Everyone ran to the place Brianna was indicating, except for Grimm, who was incredibly tired, and TC, who was in shock.

"But... Didn't Phil say he couldn't feel any other minds?" TC asked. He looked at Grimm. Grimm said nothing.

TC's eyes widened. Suddenly he could understand very well why Grimm attacked Naecken with such fury.
TC sped to the place where Mick was, arriving there before anyone else. He couldn't believe it until he saw it with his own eyes. He stood there looking at Mick until everyone else arrived.

There was no doubt. Mick was dead.

The day after

A furious blizzard blown for the rest of the day and the following night, after the Stormloader departed, carrying the Vanguardians, the dead body of Mick and the bodies, set to stone, of Kristogar Velo and Larry Lance. The barren wasteland resulted by the impact of the Nibiru with the Antarctic continent was being covered by snow, once again undistinguishable from the surrounding frozen landmass.

Managing to keep himself alive through the fierce winds, a lonely shape is seen flying across the dense, low clouds, beating his wings in deep, ample movements. Every once and then, the eyes of the being went to something hanging from his neck, looking for the confirmation of his position, that the instrument could give him.

Because the thing is a GPS, and the being is obviously not a bird, but the metahuman known as the Raptor.

As he keeps flying toward his appointment with the Prince of Hell, Lord Kwaizel, his once friend Naecken, only one though crosses his minds. A phrase he heard almost two years before: "the Green will emerge from the Red, bringing life where none existed before... put the disc on Naecken´s forehead..."

Finally, the reading from the GPS shows the right spot. Just, there is no trace of the fortress, of the army, of the Annunaki. Just snow everywhere, and the constant howling of the wind. The former Eurostar looks around dismayed, understanding he arrived too late.

Edulcore Ciccotto falls on his knees, worn off by the fatigue of a flight across half the globe, an effort totally useless. Then, raising his head, he recognize in the distant shape of the snow covered ground the forms of a human body, although of gigantic proportions.

Ed runs there, waving away the snow with his feather covered arms, revealing the red body of Naecken. His head, open in half.

Tears cross the face of Euro. "If only I would have arrived before, Nae..." he thinks. His hand goes to the disc hanging from his neck, the amulet that his "future self" gave him that day in Mandelovia. In a sudden outburst of rage he tear away the amulet from its necklace, and put it on the dead being's head, to cover the horrible wound. "rest in peace, my friend" whispers the metahuman.

Slowly, the amulet begins to spin, starting to glow. It's a green aura, that engulf the whole body, and slowly dissipates, leaving the body as dead and motionless as it was.

Euro frowns, uncertain of what just happened.

Then, the red body shrivels, shrinking into red mold. The head opens in two halves, and a green gem opens, revealing a green stem that sprout out, growing to an height of more than two meters. And the stem change shape, enlarging, until it takes the form of a green female body, with two little small horns on the forehead. And the being opens up her eyes and then smiles.

"Nae?" wonders Edulcore.

"Yes, my friend. I am Naecken."

Cicciotto is speechless.

"Thank you for having advanced my evolution, Euro." The female being look around, at the barren land. "Mine is the power of life, friend." Naecken opens up her arms, and the rocks and ice around them flourish with trees and flowers. The sun glows above them."

"You... you can do this?"

"I can do more... I sense your loss, Euro. You need not to worry anymore." In the arms of Naecken now is a child, around two years of age, with blonde dreadlocks.

"Eddie?" marvels Edulcore.

"Yes. Your son, Edulcore. Take him, gave him all your love."

Edulcore takes the kid in his arms, tears of joy running down his cheeks. The kid, when in his arms, begins to crying louder.

"Now I have to go, Euro. The war to my former self has brought so many deaths and so much destructions, I have to take care of that. And then there is this plkanet to turn into a paradise, like this small patch of ice. Farewell, my friend".

Euro raise his eyes from the crying kid to the green woman. "What? You want to transform the whole planet?"

"Yes. I can. I can transform the deserts, the oceans, the iced lands into gardens. I will create the paradise and then I will resurrect each man and woman, giving back life to all who have suffered from hate, violence, famine and disease. I have the power of life, Euro, it's my duty to perform".

"Wait! You want to change the global environment to house the billions of humans that have died? You want to give immortality to humankind?"

"Yes. That's what I can do".

"And do you think humankind whant it?"

A puzzled look appears on the face of Naecken. "How could be possibly refuse it?"

"I have met people that renounced to immortality when they had the chance to do it. They lived in a city on the shore of a lake, whose waters gave eternal lif3e to whoever drank them. They had to, because they were the keepers of the dragons, and when they had to run away from their former country, they had just one surviving dragon. Thanks to the waters, they were bale to keep him alive and themselves to keep and serve him, until the day the found a mate for the dragon who finally laid eggs. That day, they gladly renounced to immortality... and you know why? You know for what they renounced immortality? For LIFE! Immortality for them had a cost... it stripped them of creativity. They renounced to bear children, because they would have overpopulated their place... but they also renounced to art, to music, to literature... because they grown tired of it, after they began to simply reproducing what they had done for so long, having no young minds to produce something new. Naecken, immortality kills life. It kills evolution. You want to kill this planet!"

Naecken shakies her head, weeping. "No... no... no..."

Ed continues to press: "You thaked me for helping you evolution, and at the same time you want to stop it on Earth? You want to remade the planet into a garden for man, destroying the life of millions of other species? And you say you are here to giving life?"

"No.. no... I don't want it... I don't want to harm anything... anybody..."

Euro stops. The kid is still crying hard.

Naecken looks at the Italian hero. "What I should do? You have always helped me..."

Euro looks at the sky. "There are billions of places where you can create life where nothing was before, Nae. You can create whole global ecosystems, and start civilizations. I am sure THAT is your purpose. You can leave the planet, right?"

Naecken looks up. "Yes, I can. I didn't consider it. Seems an important tasks."

"I am sure it is" says Euro.

"But what about the millions of deaths I have caused? I have to repair it!" says Naecken.

"No, I don't think so. Death is part of life, Nae. It's not the opposite. There is no life without a birth, but also there is not life without a death. Leave those souls in peace, Nae. I am sure one day you will find a way to pay your debt with the humankind."

Nae looks at the kid. "And what about him? I have to take back my gift?"

Euro looks at his son, who has finally fallen asleep, smiling at the beautiful features of his little face. He remains silent for a few minutes, that seems to last like centuries.

"No, I can't let you take him away another time."

"I fear you will regret this decision, Euro. I resurrected him to live in a special world, under my protection... it will be different now... There are things you doesn't know about him..."

"I will take care of anything. Now go, Nae, please..."

"Very well. Farewell, my friend, I will never forget you!" The green woman begins to levitate toward the sky, until it finally disappears even from the incredible sight of the Raptor.

"Neither I" whispers Ed.

"What a moving departure!" yells a strong voice, well known by Edulcore.

"Saros?" exclaims Ed, turning toward the tall, muscular figure, now sporting long curly black hairs, like the paintings of Sumerian gods.

"Yes, it's me. Just call myself EN.KI, now that I stepped back into my godhood, Cicciotto"

"Godhood? What do you mean?"

The former Saros grimaced. "My men and women... the surviving Annunaki... fought valiantly your comrades, Cicciotto. They were all killed... and the residual power of their former status as gods... little remain of the time when humans worshipped us... fled back upon myself. And what was almost nothing, when shared between the twelve of us, has become much being all for myself. You understand, human?"

"What I don't understand is why no one has come to look for you..."

"Because I had Inanna posing as me. She was killed, and your comrades though that I was the one that found death."

"Ah. You hided like a coward letting all of them... your sons, daughter and relatives... to die... so that you could steal their energies..."

EN.KI smiles. "Think as you want. The fact is that I am a god again. You stole all from me... first my organization, the Hoods, and then, through your friends, my own relatives... what I want now is revenge, Cicciotto, and I will have it."

The Raptor steps back. "what do you want to do? Killing me?"

"Eh. It would be too easy for you. For how pain I could inflict to you, what loss could you endure? Even if I simply would take your son, what kind of loss would it be, having you been with him for just hours? No, Cicciotto, it will be not so easy. I will let you live, now. I will let you re-create a life for you, and for your son. I will let you love him, see him grow. I will let you find the love of a woman, and possibly have other son or daughters. I will let you find your place in the world, find old and new friends. I will let you forget about me. Then, one day, I will begin to take it back, one piece at a time, until you'll have lost everything.
EVERYTHING."

Edulcore Cicciotto nods. "Just touch my son and I will tore your heart from your chest with my bare hands. You are warned!".

EN.KI shakes his head. "Fool. You can't even grasp my power, now. Anyway, this garden will revert back to snow in seconds, and your kid will die of frostbite. Take my saucer, it's right behind you. I don't need it anymore."

Euro turns, to see a flying saucer ready to leave.

"You know how to pilot it, Cicciotto. Take it, and fly away. Next time we'll see, you'll beg me to kill you!"

Edulcore Cicciotto donesn't say anything. Holding his son, he gets aboard, and mere seconds after, the vessel takes flight, disappearing toward north.

The garden fades into nothingness, leaving the former Saros standing in the midst of a barren land of rocks and ice.

THE END

Epilogue: T5

A ball of scrap metal rolls over the snow covered barren land.

What the day before was one of the composite eyes of the mantis like mother-bot, now has taken on a life of his own. The cybernetic mind of the Quadnik retrieve unit, separated once again from the Quadnik component of Naecken, has returned to his original purpose: finding the composite being and bringing it back to the Quadnik dimension.

Small wings appear on two spots of the ball, little hands and something resembling a head protruding from the surface. The small robot takes flight toward north.

It lands a few hours later on the rocky coast of Cape Horn. Four persons looks at the sea, toward south.

The robot lands in front of them. "You are looking for Naecken, aren't you?" says the synthetic voice.

The four persons, surprised by the assertion, looks at each other. One steps further, talking to the robot. A few seconds later, the robot change shapes, enlarging to the point of being able to contain the four persons. They get aboard, and the robot launches itself toward space.


Epilogue: Constantin Goodmorning

"Constantin Goodmorning. What a stupid name" thinks Frank Cavalli, getting off the airplane that brought him back from La Perdita. But it served his purpose, a simple fake name to give to people that would have recognized a fake name as credible as it would have been. The EPS. It was Rose Biggle, the woman with whom Cavalli had a sort of relationship since the last spring, that asked him to enlist as a volunteer for them.

He never heard about them before. Rose seemed, on the reverse, to know a little, a very little, about them. But with her ties to the Strikeforce, and that Jack Merlin, he would have been surprised by the opposite. But on the two flight, from and to la Perdita, he, like the other, was not allowed to see anything about that, if not the interior of the carrier. Even the man giving orders to them was invisible.

But Cavalli is happy. He has helped a lot finding wounded people and bringing them back to safety.

And Rose was not disturbed by the fact that he was not able to find anything useful about those men. "Just keep your nose well open when you walk across Chicago, Frank" she said, after kissing him, just before his departure for the windy city.


Epilogue: Mandelovia

Attendant Nikto is facing General Colton D'goon: "Should we keep the nuclear missiles pointed to the Antarctic, sir?"

"No, point them back to Washington. There is nothing left there". The fall of the Nibiru surprised greatly D'goon the day before. The time he had given Vanguard to try to retrieve Naecken was coming to an end, and he was ready to sent nuclear missiles not only on Naecken's fortress, but also over the Nibiru, as an answer to the Strikeforce 1 invasion. But Vanguard did good use of the time they had, and accomplished his same goal. They were really smart as he was sure they were.


Epilogue: the war

"... the Strikeforce valiantly defended the human populace against this dreaded enemy in Antarctica, sacrificing their own lives to assure a future for our own planet..." says Merlin, his face bruised and battered, speaking to a reporter on CNN. The images follows quickly on the TV screen, showing the fall of the Nibiru, Captain Ekorre praying God, in Norwegian, driving the ship toward the fortress, hundreds of soldiers in the Strikeforce 1 uniform attacking the T5 droids and Mandelovian soldiers, and finally Hero saving Paris from the metor fall. Nowhere images of Vanguard, the EPS or the volunteers are to be found.

"It's all a fake!" hisses Jake at the images running on the TV at Jake's place

"At last the metahumans of La Perdita know the truth" suggest Bhaghhh-rupth .

"But not the rest of the world" says Otto. "I think Vanguard will have to work on their public relations, or Merlin will steal the whole show!"

Epiloge: Vengeance
At the universal endpoint sits a rather large, foreboding structure rumored to have been built by the gods themselves. The tops of it's four adjoined ivory towers burn consistently with cosmic energy. The tops of the walls were lined with grotesque statuary. The building itself sat on a large, flattopped piece of land, held stationary between two black holes. It's purpose, not to keep people out, but to keep them held within. This, was The Asylum. It was in front of this imposing edifice that Vengeance now found himself.

As he looked upon the structure, the front gate opened and lowered, drawbridge like, to allow access. Vengeance revved his motorcycle and drove inside. As if by instinct, Vengeance guided his bike down the silent hallways until he came to a massive doorway. Two large stone doors stood before him. The doors opened in front of him as he approached and Vengeance entered the chamber within.

At the end of the chamber sat a massive desk, presided over by a tall, thin (one might almost say, gaunt. Almost.) man with long, white hair and a stern countenance. He wore black robes and had an overall look of judgment about him. His name, to some, was Mortis.

Mortis raised his head slightly, as Vengeance entered the room, and a slight gleam could be perceived in his eyes. "Welcome, Spirit. You are no doubt wondering why I have drawn you here, at this time." Vengeance stood and removed his helmet, exposing his scarred visage (though, if you were to ask him why he did this now, he would not be able to say). "There is vengeance to be meted out on Earth! The being known as Naecken must. . ."

"Worry not about Naecken. Your friends will deal with him. You have another purpose. A higher purpose, one that must not be tempered with the day to day affairs of mortal men." Mortis looked upon Vengeance in full. "You are a mighty warrior and servant of your cause. But you are aimless. A slave to your urges with no direction behind them. I will give you that direction. You will work for me, and your need for Vengeance will be fulfilled. Your human host will have a place to rest and grow strong when you are not needed. Surely you have noticed that your constant travels were destroying him?"

"I. . .had not. . ." The being once known as Leshi Un, considered Michael Ringo's existence, or lack of it, since they had been bonded together. "There is much to what you say, dark one. You serve the powers that enable me to deal out punishment to those that are deserving of it?" He asked Mortis.

"I do, indeed. Who do you think has charged me with this task of my own? To preside over and keep here, the universally insane?" Mortis held out an arm and images of the Asylum's inmates became known to Vengeance. Their cries of madness oddly familiar to the Spirit. Those same sounds he had heard from the vicims of his own brand of justice.

"Then, I will aid you." he finally replied. putting his demonic helm back on.

Mortis smiled wickedly. "It. . .is good."

Epilogue: Grimm

Elysium Fields Cemetary
New Orleans, LA, USA

Grimm's heavy black boots touched the ground soundlessly as he opened the rusted black metal gate and walked into the cemetary.

Oh, excuse me. Are you guys in a band?

He walked silently past the monuments and aboveground tombs, making his way to the very end of the massive graveyard.

Uh, yeah, we're a band. How could you tell?

You guys kinda had that look, you know, like you didn't wanna be bothered. . .

I didn't want to be bothered, he thought to himself, but there you were, big as life and twice as beautiful. He paused, looking at a particular marker, with a name poorly and hastily scrawled on it.

You wanna walk me home?

Yeah, let me get my jacket.

Sloppy, Grimm, very, very sloppy. Be seeing you.

He stared at the name. You stupid bastard. he thought to himself. He looked at the spot in front of the marker that had been hastily repaired.

Moving on, he came to the spot he had been searching for. He read the name on the crypt. Michelle Morlant April 17th, 1978-Oct 15th 2001. Beloved daughter. She is at peace.

So what do you do, Michelle?

I work here, in the square, I'm a psychic. I tell people's fortunes. Tourists, mostly.

You don't really believe in that kind of stuff, do you?

He reached down to clear away some dead leaves that had gathered around the bottom of the monument, and made a place to sit.

Well, in the case of most psychics, no. But, you see, I can. . .uhm. I don't usually tell people this, but, I'm a meta. I can see into people's futures."

See into the future, he thought, and what did you see, Michelle? Did you see me turned into this. . .thing? Did you see me fighting aliens and robots in the Antarctic? Did you see me killing a former teammate who wanted to destroy us all? Who did kill one of us?

I saw you. . .as a hero.

Funny definition of hero you got there, girl. he thought to himself.

Blam! Stupid stuck up goth satan bitch! Think you're too good to go out with me!

Sloppy, Grimm, very, very sloppy. Be seeing you." Blam! Blam!

What a [censored] night. . .two years, kiddo. Two years and I still don't know what the hell is going on. Grimm spotted movement off to his left. Several dark forms approaching him. He jumped up and grabbed the nearest one and prepared to punch it. . .right in the face. . .

"Whoah, hey, it's me! It's us!" Phil Smith put his hands up defensively. "We just wanted to know if you were about ready to go. Uh, the girls are getting hungry."

"Uh, sure. Just let me finish saying goodbye." Grimm released his hold and sat back on the crypt. Phil straightened his jacket and turned to walk back towards the other members of the team. "Hey, I know this great little Italian place." Grimm said as Phil reached the group.

"Then what the hell are we waiting for?" the telepath replied.

Epilogue: Strikeforce 1

Paris was cold and grey. Hundreds of thousands of people were gathered under the hard pouring rain for the funerals for Frank Mullarney, the hero who saved the city mere days before, protecting it from the fall of a meteor, driven by Naecken. Subsequently, he died valiantly in Mandelovia.

Or, at last, that was what the people were thought to believe.

At the head of the miles long procession, many politicinas where fighting for the best spot in front of the cameras: Jaques Chirac, Tony Blair, Romano Produi, Kofi Hannan and dozens of others. Far away, from the top of the Eiffel Tower, a man with a long black coat, and an equally black open umbrella was observing the mourning procession, from behind black sunglasses, very odd in a day like that.

Another man, not tall, but heavily built, approached him. "making the best from a failure, eh, Jack? Like always."

Jack Merlin turned, to see the familiar face of his father, the Neanderthal known just as Myrrdin. "Dad. Yes, like always. You thought that to me, so many years ago."

"My biggest mistake. But I will ruin your plans, like all the other times, son" whispered the neanderthal in the ear of the white, long haired man.

"This time I wouldn't be so sure, dad. Look at them. They are millions, and they all love me and my work. The people. The politicians. The global corporations. I am giving them what they ask for. safety. I am cleaning up the world from what they fear. I am setting lights over the dark corners of the world. Their world. They are tired of having fear to get out of their home. They are tired of having fear staying in their homes."

"You are just letting them into thinking of being safe".

"And where's the difference, dad? If they think of being safe, they are!"

Myrrdin shook his head. "It's not so simple, son. There are things you wouldn't even guess at play here. If that stupid play of yours would have not destroyed Hoods and Capes, now..."

"Ohhh, the Capes, the Hoods... you can't speak of anything else? That's the past, dad! Today is the day of the Strikeforce!"

"And where is the Strikeforce, Jack? Am I wrong, or you are the only survivor of your army?"

Jack smiled. "Just for now. The Un has doubled the founds for my peacekeeping organization, thanks to the extraordinary success of the Antarctic operation. The academy for the cadets will begin to operates in the Sahara fortress in a few days. And soon I will start to recruit new agents for the elite. The Strikeforce 2 will be operative not later than next months."

"And I guess you are busy creating the menace your army will have to fight, eh, Jack?"

"No need for that, dad. There is the metaterrorism to fight. There is the MBL to destroy."

Myrrdin shook his head again. "Be careful, Jack" he whispered, before his hologram faded into nothingness.

Merlin just shrugged, and walked out of the place, to reappear at the Hopital des Invalides, just in time to take the best spot in front of the cameras at the burial ceremony of Hero, next to Napoleon's tomb.

Epilogue: Pawns and Rooks

the Korystnyj

"You know," Tsulygin said calmly to his mysterious guest, "I haven't had a political officer on my ship in many years."

The GRU man glared at the aging mercenary captain. "That is not my function. I was sent to ensure that you followed through on the order to locate the subject and bring him in." He paused. "I serve the best interests of... of many. Many in higher positions."

"Spoken like a true Party leftover from the eighties," Tsulygin mocked.

"GRU has been instrumental in ensuring that you and your crew are able to continue in your work without... interference from the Russian government," the agent said coldly. "It would be... tragic if this unpleasantness were to bring that assistance to a premature termination." He pounded his fist on the table in the captain's ready room. "We want this Phil Smith brought to us, alive and unharmed, if you and your crew wish to keep your positions... and your continued good health."

Tsulygin's eyes narrowed. "I spent thirty years of my life playing hide-and-seek with American nuclear-missile boats. They sneak one Ohio-class boat past our defenses, we slip one Typhoon-class past their sonar nets... always one wrong move, one false step from accidentally ending the world as we know it." He smirked at the GRU man. "What makes you think you or the impotent bureaucrats you work for can frighten me with your empty threats?"

The agent pulled out a silenced .22 pistol. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this," he said. "But if you will not bring Smith to me, then I suppose I will have to find someone who-"

His sentence was cut short by a nine-millimeter round from a silenced Beretta, which left most of the GRU agent's gray matter spread across the walnut paneling on Tsulygin's wall.

The captain sighed. "The astounding subtlety of the American. It is amazing that you managed to beat us after all those years."

"Many apologies for your upholstery, Captain," the visitor said quietly. "But thank you for not revealing anything compromising - not like he'll be talking to anyone any time soon."

Tsulygin shrugged. "I have no desire to hand a good man over to the old guard in the GRU." He looked down. "I am not very enthusiastic about helping your organization find him either... but I am left with few alternatives."

"We have no interest in harming Smith, Captain Tsulygin. I only want to speak with him. Please try to believe me."

Tsulygin frowned. "You just murdered a Russian intelligence officer in cold blood on a former Soviet nuclear submarine. What makes you think I should trust you?"

Agent Fisher shrugged. "As you said, you're left with few alternatives."

La Perdita

"I still find it hard to believe, that's all."

"I don't," Leslie countered as she sat down by Phil on the loveseat. "I've worked with them before. They're all business. The contract expired, and they didn't have to bring you in, so they didn't touch you."

The telepath shook his head. "It's just... really weird. It's been a little over a year since I came here, and in all that time, only once has someone from my past tried to make trouble for me. With all the high-profile jobs we've done, even with Strikeforce duping the world about what happened in Antarctica, plenty of people have to have figured out by now who I am and where to find me. I just can't believe more haven't tried."

The former bounty hunter shrugged. "I'm not particularly bothered by it. Maybe someone has finally decided to leave you alone and let you try to sort out your life." She smiled at him. "Which is part of why I'm here."

Phil's eyebrows went up. "To help me sort out my life?" He thought a moment. "What's the other part?"

Leslie grinned. "If you haven't figured that out by now," she replied, "there really is something wrong with you." She leaned over and kissed him.

Oh, well, Phil concluded. I suppose it's a problem for some other day...

Epilogue: Nadia

Europe

Vanguard International security chief Grissom Montag had been standing at the hospital desk for at least fifteen minutes. He'd been tapping his fingers to a steady beat on the table, but he could only be so amused by the beating of his own fingers. Steadily drumming, he began to whistle "The Marching Song" from Bridge on the River Kwai, reminding him of the mission he'd once taken to Japan. In all honesty, he had no idea what artifact he'd been sent to retrieve, but the women, on the other hand, we unforgettable. Grissom grinned wildly in the midst of his whistling just thinking about it. In fact, he was so lost in his thought, that he'd not even noticed that a nurse had finally approached the portion of the desk where he'd been waiting.

"Can I help you, sir?" the beautiful nurse asked again, lightly touching Grissom on the arm.

"W'ot?" the Brit suddenly stopped. As he moved his head down to behold the nurse, his eyes widened and his mouth curled into a slightly seductive smile. "Why, 'ello there, m'dear!"

The nurse's cheeks flushed as she returned his smile and asked again, "Can I help you, sir?"

"You may, dear girl," he said, placing a hand over hers, which was still touching his arm from earlier. "Name's Grissom Montag, but you c'n call me Griss." He winked at her before he continued. "Lookin' fer a teammate o' mine who was transferred to this 'ospital after an all-too-brief stay in Mandelovia. Name of 'Nadia Ljvazet'. The mate in the lobby told me I'd find 'er on this floor. That so?"

"Depends," the nurse said coyly, withdrawing her hand. "She a... girlfriend or something?"

"Darlin'," Montag said with a wink, "I ain't the kind to be tied down so easy... get me drift?"

The nurse's smile broadened. "I think so," she said, momentarily turning to her computer. Griss kept his attention on the beauty before him, winking at her or raising his eyebrows flirtatiously whenever she'd momentarily look up from her work. "I think I've found her, sir," she finally said, furrowing her brow. "But this can't be right. We've been told that room was empty, that patient having been sent home for recovery."

Grissom leaned in, squinting his eyes. "That don't make much sense," he said, scratching his head. He tapped his fingers on the table again, this time in thought as opposed to boredom. "We 'adn't 'eard anythin' about it... and I know fer a fact that Grimm left instructions that we were to be notified on any progress..."

He raised an eyebrow at the nurse, who merely shrugged, just as, if not more so confused than Grissom.

"If I may," Grissom continued, running a hand over his five-o'clock shadow, "who was it that told you about the patient being taken out?"

"One of the new nurses," the innocent nurse said, raising a pensive eyebrow. "She came in from Russia, I think. Short jet black hair... and a sort of dragon tattoo on her chest..."

Grissom's eyes widened as his face paled.

"What?" the nurse asked, looking at Griss' confused expression.

"Nevermind," Grissom said, waving his hand dismissively. "She'll do fine on 'er own, I'm sure..." he muttered under his breath.

Clearing his throat, he looked up at the nurse, who smiled once more at the attention being paid her. Grissom could do nothing but smile in return.

"W'ot time you get off, luv?" Grissom asked. "Work, I mean..."

"A couple of hours yet..." she said, leaning forward on the desk, giving Griss a great view down her top. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, it appears as though I got a bit o' time to spare and no one to spare it with..." he said with a wink, pulling a pen and a pad of paper out of thin air. Quickly, he scribbled down an address and a phone number. "'ere's me 'otel. Go ahead and get yourself all dolled up and come on over for a seafood dinner, courtesy o' room service. We'll eat a bit o' food, drink a bit o' wine... and see what 'appens after that, eh?" He winked again, just as a way to seal the deal.

"Sure," she said, a wicked grin on her face as she looked at the paper. "You mind if I bring my friend Anastasia?"

Grissom could help but look a bit astonished for a moment. "Y'know, 'on... I like the way you think!"

"See you in a couple of hours then, Griss?"

"I'll be waitin' in ever-eager..." he paused, as he leaned over the desk, his lips closing in on hers, "...anticipation."

He kissed the nurse passionately over the desk, breaking away only after their connection had lasted for at least thirty seconds.

Grissom licked his lips greedily. "Yeah... I'll definitely be waitin', m'dear..."

And with that, the former mercenary turned and exited the hospital, whistling to himself as he went...

Epilogue: Pre-Genesis

Mandelovia - The Royal Prison

In a high-tech prison beneath the castle of the President-Prime Minister of the technologically advanced nation of Mandelovia, two women sat melancholically staring into space. One was a beautiful woman with shoulder-length black hair with a - quite literally - heavenly build. She was as nothing that had been born on Earth. This was because she had, in fact, not been born on Earth. She was a goddess - actually, a demigoddess. Daughter of the only remaining Greek god, Morpheus, Morphina had joined the Strikeforce in an attempt to relieve her father's debt to Jack Merlin, the founder of Strikeforce 1. She only hoped that her service was enough to do that. She sat in her cell, with her cellmate, pondering what exactly had brought her, of all persons, to this end.

The other woman was equally beautiful, with short-cut bright red hair. Her red leather jacket had long since been flung across the room, revealing her bare shoulders, sticking out from her sleeveless shirt. If one looked close enough, they could began to make out a small tattoo of a rose on her left shoulder. It matched her name - Rose. She was reknown across the world as one of the most dangerous women alive. Her prowess with guns, knives, and any manner of combat made her quite a formidible foe. The fact that her metahuman ability was to exude pheromones to attract her prey made her no less deadly. A woman of many skills, Rose sat in her cell, with her cellmate, silent as ever, wondering why she, of all people, was unable to get out of this predicament.

Two armed guards stood outside the cell door, each one staring straight ahead. Sturdy titanium bars held the women in, keeping them from their outside world. A force field kept them in the prison. Rose turned from her self-pity and suddenly cocked an eyebrow. Her tactical mind raced as she quickly looked about the room, her eyes darting from her cellmate to the guards to the force field control panel. She snapped her fingers, attracting the attention of the sulking Morphina.

Rose sprinkled invisible dust from her fingers, then quickly held out her palm and blew across the top of her hand. She then pointed two fingers at the guards and nodded to the demigoddess. Morphina studied her pantomime curiously, then, as it dawned on her what her teammate was suggesting, she began to smile, nodding slowly.

She stood in her cell, creeping slowly toward the bars. Reaching between her cleavage, she pulled out a bit of a light periwinkle powder from between her breasts, gently rubbing it in her fingers. Letting the powder rest on her palm, she reached the bars, gently blowing the powder first at one guard, then at the other.

Within moments, the guards had inhaled the powder and immediately slumped down onto the floor, unconscious. Rose stood, then, smiling wickedly as she reached into her hair and removed a hairpin from her red quaff. Leaning against the cool titanium bars, Rose studied the layout of the room, looking about at the security cameras all peering at the cell, then at the force field panel. Carefully, she positioned her hairpin carefully between her middle funger and thumb. With deft skill, the assassin flicked the pin into the air, as the pin ricocheted off the wire powering one of the cameras, knocking it loose. The pin then sailed across the room, flying off of a wall, and spiralling back to take the wire from another camera. It then sailed over to the force field control panel, hitting squarely, the 'Depower' button, essentially making the force field disappear with little more than a blue flicker.

Rose winked to her comrade, bent down and picked up one of the guard's key cards, swiping in through the side of the prison door. Slowly, the doors began to open as Rose slipped her hand back through the bars. As the doors opened, she nodded to Morphina and quickly made her way for the doors.

"Rose!" Morphina called as the assassin turns to look at her once-teammate. Rose cocked her eyebrow expectantly.

"Thanks," Morphina said, bowing slightly. "I shall not forget this. I will repay you."

Rose simply smirked and shrugged as Morphina tossed her the red leather jacket she had worn. The assassin then turned again, running out of the castle.

Running toward freedom...

To be continued in a FRINGE Comics series - F.E.M.M.E. - coming soon!

Adem laid on a bed in Quantos's lab. His orange eyes barely peering out from beneath their lids. His body was covered in a strange, white body suit that extended from his neck down. Only his head remained out in the open.

"How's he doing?" Brianna asked the aged scientist.

"Honestly," he replied with a sigh, "I don't know. My machines won't even scan his body to help me determine his psisiology. I think it has something to do with that suit of his. It feels like no fibers I've ever seen, and I can't get it off of him. There isn't so much as a zipper on the whole thing. It's like he was born in it or something."

Brianna ran her hand along Adem's sleeve. The material felt soft and comfortable, yet it was sturdy and would not give way to her touch. She noticed the slight glimmer in the alien's eyes. "Are you feeling better?"

"Tired. We're all so very tired," he answered before his lids closed completely.

"If I were required to guess," Quantos continued on as his attention was still captured by the other worldy clothing, "I would say that this suit is how he changes clothes so quickly. How, I'm not quite sure. I'd have to further investigate his technologies, which I can't do with him out cold."

"I wonder what he meant by that," the Irish lady said to herself.

"Meant by what?"

"He said 'We're tired.' We. I wonder who we is.... are."

Epilogue: Edulcore Cicciotto.

The kid was sleeping, while his father was piloting the UFO with just the force of his though.

Suddenly, a metallic voice Edulcore was not hearing from nearly two years broke the silence. Although terms like years bear no meaning for the owner of that voice.

"So, my old friend, are you happy now?" asks the Time trust android.

Euro just nods, concentrated on the task of piloting the vessel.

"You can talk, Ed. I am directing the ship, now.

"Yes, TT. I am happy. I have my son, now, like you promised me, although I can't say you have really helped me" said the Raptor.

"No? You asked me three things, that time..."

"Right.

Quote:

---

I need a body to hold my son, comrades to help me in rescuing him, and a place to keep him away from the ones who haunt him

---

.

Exactly. I have given you all those things. A new body, with cool wings, a new group of friends, that have helped you to have Eddie back from walker, not only in Vanguard, but also in the EPS, your fiend Turner. And a paradise island full of metas, where Eddie will be safe from any peril."

"But you promised those things two fucking years ago! TWO YEARS AGO!"

The Time Trust smiled and shook his metallic head. "Ed, Ed, how may times I will have to repeat you before you will learn? Time has no meaning for me!

The eternal ocean breeze of the land called Haven rolled with a soothing embrace along a supple neck. Her hair pulled up in a haphazard bun of billowing auburn, Victoria Greystoke's face poured sweat. Timed grunts were bled dry by the muffling breeze, her hands clasped with a white-tightness around the pull-bar. Taught muscles of a graceful cut sparkled with perspiration, twinkling against the lazy rays of the endlessly setting sun. Damp splotches marked across the white, sleeveless 'wife-beater'-shirt, giving the world an almost transparent view of nipples made sharp from the cool breeze.

".....342...." she grunted through clenched teeth. "...343..."

Her ankles locked together, she continued her regiment of pull-ups on the thin, horizontal support column lining the thirty-story pavillion.

"...344..." she grunted again. "...345.......what do you want Graham?"

She cocked her eyes over to the open entrance where Graham Wells leaned, watching her in silence.

"Down-wind, am I?" he smiled.

She dropped from the bar, grabbing her towel.

"You've been standing there ogling me for the past five minutes--"

"Four minutes, sixteen seconds, twelve nano-seconds, thirty-seven pico-seconds, and nine trilo-seconds, to be exact..." he interrupted.

"--whatever." she said, rubbing her face dry. "You need something?"

Wells shrugged, his hands deep in his trouser pockets.

"I'm just here to complete the moment I see." he said.

It would have been a rather baffling remark to most. However, Graham had been an agent for The Order longer than anyone, save Artemis Cross. Those that had come and gone around him had come to understand the man's strange demeanor, and had learned to understand he was simply a tool of his nature.

Greystoke reached behind her head, grabbing the back of her skull. She twisted back and forth, stretching out her upper body. A smooth, taught washboard of a stomach flashed by Graham's eyes.

"...okay, so what's this moment entail?" she asked.

He stared at her briefly.

"It entails you laughing." he stated with an almost neutral tone.

She cocked an eyebrow.

"Why? Are you suddenly going to gain a sense of humor?"

He walked towards her.

"No..." he chuckled. "...I would never put anyone through that..."

He stopped in front of her, even as she was reaching for her tan, button-up hanging from one of the stone spires.

"Then, why am I laughing?" she asked.

He stared at her for another moment.

"Forget it." he shrugged. "The moment seems to have changed."

She sighed, unfurling her massive mane of hair.

"Bloody hell, you are a boring git, aren't you?" she said with a wry smile.

He returned the smile. Leaning against the stone bannister, he stared out over the pristine starfield that covered half the sky.

"Well....you know...." he began, his voice beginning to gain a strange, nervous titter. "...if you are really bored....I can....you know....think of something we can do...."

"Oh yeah? What's that?" she asked, pulling the shirt over her shoulders.

Wells took a deep breath.

"...wellll...." he began, turning towards her. "...I was going to maybe pop over to Italy......have a bite of dinner...."

He looked at her with an obvious fear in his eyes.

"...I thought...perhaps....you'd like to......umm.....accompany me....?"

She paused, staring at him.

"You mean......like a date?" she asked very carefully.

He stared back.

"Uhh...well...that is...not exactly like a date....maybe just a....a...meeting of some sort.....we could talk about improvements that could be made to the team...or....."

He stammered off, even as she just stared at him with a blank expression.

And, slowly, a smile began to crease her face.

"Ohhh! You tosser'!" she half-laughed, slapping him on the arm with a stand-offish demeanor. "And you say you don't have a sense of humor!"

She turned, walking towards the doorway...

"You really had me going there for a moment!" she remarked, breaking into a broad....perhaps nervous.....laughter.

Graham's smile was cemented on his face, as he watched her walk away.

"...and there it is..." he said, checking his pocketwatch.

Meanwhile, fifteen stories below...

The broad, open chamber stood with a fifty-story ceiling, the interior matching the rest of the temple in its identical granite decor. Massive thirty-foot statues lined the perimeter of the room, individually illuminated by eternally-burning torches of white flame.

The Chamber of the Fallen.

Warriors...agents....of The Order that were now gone. Those that had fallen in battle throughout Haven's history.

"Z has returned....they are heading for the lab..." Turkish said, turning from the mirror lining the far wall.

Grimm stood a few feet away, hands clamped behind his back. He was staring silently up at the figure before him. The light flickered and danced shadows across the stone visage of a familiar face. One that he had known for only a brief time, and, yet, was as familiar as a childhood friend.

The previous avatar of death....Wun.

Turkish stepped up next to him, peering up as well.

"He never once uttered a single word to me...." Turkish began. "...thankfully, mind you. Yet, I found his presence comforting."

"You found death comforting?" Grimm asked, neither man taking their eyes off the statue before them.

"It was a reminder to me...." the Prophet explained. "....that all things end..."

Grimm sighed heavily, staring more off, now, than at the statue.

"The natural cycle of existence." Grimm nodded.

"Exactly..."

"But, this time.....this time...it doesn't feel right..." the Vanguardian leader tried to explain, more for his own sake than his companion's.

"You are speaking of Michael Harrison?" Turkish cocked an eyebrow, turning towards him.

"Mick...yeah...." Grimm nodded, never breaking his stare from the statue. "....Chance....Kristofer....I felt. I knew. His was.....right."

"And those that died today? Those that fell in Antarctica?" Turkish asked, studying his friend's reactions.

Grimm nodded again.

"Yes....that was as it had to be." the avatar of death replied. "That was just another roll in the cycle...."

"And, yet, Harrison is different? Why?"

"I don't know...." Grimm shook his head. "I don't know anything, anymore. Ever since that night...."

His words trailed off, thinking back to the fateful night his status in existence upgraded.

"...and then, ever since he left me the family business...." he continued, pointing towards Wun's statue. "...it's all...confusing. I feel the pull, now. I feel....no...I know the need of death. I understand my role. I understand my place in the universe. But, I still don't understand this nature that guides me."

Grimm finally sighed again, going silent.

Turkish stared at him for a moment.

"Perhaps...." the Prophet began. "...perhaps, the reason it feels different....or wrong...is because you miss him...."

Grimm finally turned from the statue, staring Turkish dead-on.

"...perhaps it isn't your avatarial nature that is making you feel something amiss...." Turkish explained with a comforting voice. "....but, that he was your friend...and you mourn his passing."

Grimm stared at Turkish for another moment. Then, turned silently back to the statue.

"You know..." Turkish began. "...yours is a presence I miss, as well."

Grimm turned back to him again.

"Meditation isn't quite the same for me either, these days...." Grimm began. "...no one's there to put all of my rocks back together for me..."

Turkish's face blossomed into a broad smile.

"Well, then...perhaps if you would concede to visit these hallowed halls more often, I can arrange for weekly visits to your favorite quarry..."

If Grimm could have smiled, he would have.

"Deal." he nodded.

Turkish turned, heading for the door.

"Come...let us go check up on the status of your friends..."

Grimm began following the man towards the door.

"So..." Grimm began. "...what's this I hear about you and the armor-chick? What's her name? Pendraga?"

"Pendragon." he replied. "And, I have no idea what you are talking about..."

"Oh bullshit!" Grimm remarked with a chuckle. "Come on, Turk....spill it!"

"Spill what?"

"You've got a thing for her, don't you?"

"Who told you that?"

"I think Z mentioned it once...."

"Z's an alcoholic."

"Ha! You are so bad at lying, you know...."

"Z's into heroin."

"Come on Turkish! You 'wuv' this Pendragon woman, don't you?"

"Z is mentally insane, as well as a habitual liar."

"I think I know who the habitual liar is here...."

"Did I tell you Z's really a man?"

"...Turkish..." Grimm sighed.

**************

"...'n over there's tha' original Hangin' Gardens..."

Z's voice trailed along the brisk evening breeze, sunlight splotched against the petal-covered cobblestone path. Her gum smacking, she strolled with a determined pace, introducing points of interest with the flair of a cynical tour guide. The pace of her companion, while not as determined, per se, was just as frantic.

"...wh-what...?" the woman stammered out, jerking her wide-eyed gaze to and fro with a permanent awe.

Her name was Jana Macedes. Born and raised in the Mandelovian nation, she was only one in the three-million metas that populated the country. Having recently survived the ravages of the Mandelovian war, she now found herself in a place beyond her wildest understanding.

"The Hanging Gardens of Babylon." Z enunciated as clearly as possible. "Thot's the original, watch your step...."

Z had reached for the woman's arm, even before she tripped against the first step of the long 'rope bridge'.

"Issz' cool..." Nida remarked. "...I used to hit thot' step all th'bloody time..."

"...this....bridge..." Jana spoke, her rough accent clipping the end of every vowel. "...itis......smog...?"

"Smoke..." Z corrected, as the two crossed the wide ravine. "Iss' some sorta' natural phenomenon, or so um' told, rite'. Been like this forever, if ya' believe in that sorta bollocks. Freaked me silly at first. Jus' don' look down, eh?"

Jana immediately looked down, even as they neared the end.

"Oh!" she yelped, the sight of flowing magma miles below startling her.

Z held her by the elbow, guiding her off the bride.

"Iss' okay, really....nothin's gonna hurt you here, swear..."

And, even though Jana's eyes seemed to doubt the intended comfort of the words, she nodded, the two pressing on.

"So..." the Mandelovian began. "...you need me...help you?"

"That's roite'..." Z nodded. "....we got ou'selves a deadringer of a problem, ya' see...."

They passed a waterfall that sparkled different shades of blue. Glowing spheres of sentient protoplasm floated near the churning surface, feeding off the ambient light with a faint chiming melody.

"No un' can seem to find a way to help those two Vanguard-gits'." the avatar of space continued. "So, Alice dida' search through Real-Time...."

They turned a corner along the path, the immense shadow of the epic Temple dropping over their forms with a cooling embrace.

"...and, whot' do ya' know? She found you."

Jana gasped, Z turning to follow her gaze to their far left.

There, in a wide, sunny field, Artemis Cross sat crosslegged reading a book. It wasn't this that she gasped at, of course, but, what he leaned against. Behind him, a gigantic two-headed dragon lay sprawled lazily along the sun-drenched field of green.

"...and, then, the little pig replied 'Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin'..." Cross continued, reciting the children's book to his droopy-eyed companions.

The enormous red-scaled creature, drizzling smoke from each set of nostrils, was the size of a four-story office building; Artemis dwarfed by a single fang.

"Oh...thas' jus' Statler and Waldorf, our resident ambassador from the Draconian Empire..." Z explained. "...the silly little sod in front is their pet, Artemis Cross..."

The two women continued on, the group in the field oblivious to their passing.

"....'and they lived happily ever after, the end'..." Arthur said, closing the book. He turned with a wide grin at the two sleepy faces staring down at him.

"Wasn't that great?" he asked, a child-like glee glued to every inflection. "And, the moral of the story is: Capitalism run amuck causes real estate prices to soar, and brings down the value of middle-class urban sectors."

The only reply was a gusting nostril-sigh from one of the heads. Cross reached up, hugging one of the body-sized, red scales lining the chins of each head.

"Okay, guys...I've got to go.....duty calls..." he said, immediately grabbing his own crotch. "...or, rather, nature..."

He began heading towards the path.

"I'll see you later..." he said over his shoulder.

Cross wasn't even out of sight, when one of the heads turned to the other one...

"You think one day we should tell him that we can talk?" Waldorf asked in a clear, English dialect.

"Oh, heavens no!" Statler replied. "I rather enjoy all the stories."

"Yes, there's nothing like a good story..." Waldorf nodded.

"...and that was nothing like a good story..." Statler replied.

Both heads chuckled, smoke billowing with the guttural sound.

"Those pigs were obviously racist..."

"I know!" Statler nodded. "If I were that lupine, I would have filed a class-action discrimination suit."

"Or at least alerted the NAACP..."

"True. But, I like how meatbag spiced the tale up with the interlude at the strip club."

"Who knew female swine could bend that way?"

"Yes...that was creative....and the part when the aliens invaded, and the President of the United States has to kill them all with....with....what was it called?"

"A 'Kung-Fu Action Grip', I believe. Nasty sounding weapon."

"How can one human grip that tightly? It's unnatural."

"So is the fact that meatbag's parents concieved him."

Both heads chuckled again.

*******************

In the tech-lab of the temple, Rowena stood calmly, staring at the two humanoid statues before her.

"....there..." the voice of Doctor Moreau stated, standing up from his bent position. "...that should do it..."

"He is repaired?" Rowe asked.

Moreau stared at the pertified LLance.

"Yes, well, according to my calculations, both torsoes should line up exactly..." the good Doctor continued. "...however, the transmutation of their molecular structure will have to be left up to this specialist that Z is bringing in....where the devil is that girl, anyway?!"

the avatar of space
just entered the temple

Alice's cool voice seemd to fill the room exponentially.

Tayden stood off to the side, watching intently. And, even though he had journeyed to Haven with Grimm in hopes of helping Velo and LLance, he found himself mildly curious about the man next to him. He had fought against, and then, with, this man before. And, yet, he had never taken the time to truly look at him.

As he was doing now.

Intently.

"...what?" Tallmoore asked, looking at Tayden. "Do I have a booger hanging out of my nose, or something?"

Tayden shifted his eyes to the man's nose, and then back again.

"No, I see no boogers." he replied earnestly.

"Well, why do you keep staring at me like that?"

Tayden paused, as if considering the question.

"You are....familiar...to me..." the ex-seraphim explained. "...I am not quite sure why, though..."

Friday frowned, taking another drag.

"Well, goddamn man....we just fought together a few months back..." Tallmoore shrugged. "Think maybe that has anything to do with it?"

Tayden shook his head.

"No...no...not you..."

He leaned in closer, staring directly into Tallmoore's pupils...

"...you seem familiar....not you.....you...." he half-whispered, peering very closely into the man's eyes.

Eyes that seemed to shake....to tremble at the piercing might of his stare....

"...they say, Mr. Tallmoore...." Tayden began, peering ever closer. "...that the eyes are the 'windows to the soul'..."

...'windows' that instantly rolled and flickered ominously with the epic-black shadows of the abyss...

"...I see you too..." a sadistic voice whispered from Tallmoore's clenched teeth.

Tayden jerked back with a start, feeling an eternal cold brush against his ever-resilient soul.

And, by the time he blinked once, a blue-eyed Friday was standing there staring at him with a baffled expression.

"What's wrong with you, man?" Friday asked, perplexed.

Tayden just stared at him briefly with a wide-eyed expression of half-intrigue, half-fear.

"....nothing....it's nothing...." Tayden said, retreating to another part of the lab, even as Z and her Mandelovian companion entered the expansive chamber.

"About time, young Zbinden!" Moreau began, walking over to greet the visitor.

"Oh, sod off, mary..." Z rolled her eyes.

"Are these...?" Jana asked, pointing towards the two statues.

"Yes, yes my dear..." the doctor nodded. "...it seems to be some form of transmutatable status, where the electrons have gained three new positron-cyphers, breaking down their orbital cohesion...."

Jana ran her hands across Velo's smooth face.

"...stone...?" she asked.

"She catches on quick..." Grimm said, he and Turkish entering the lab.

Jana's wide-eyed shock at the sight of Grimm's skulled-visage was short-lived, as she reasserted her personal bravery, attempting to digest her surroundings.

"Can you do it, Ms. Macedes?" Turkish asked, his towering frame standing before her.

She paused, looking at the two statues. Then, without a word, placed a hand to each stone face. There was a momentary lapse of sound, as if everyone and everything within the room held its breath.

In reality, it was the nature of Jana's metahuman abilities. Her transmutable gifts were remarkable, to say the least. However, in order to shift the molecular structure of matter, a balance had to be maintained by the natural elemental laws of the universe.

In this case, Jana devoured the energy of the sound waves, bouncing within the chamber, to fuel this exertion of elemental power.

There was no flare of light, or visual expression of energy in any form. One moment, Velo and LLance are solid stone...

Jana removed her hands, stepping back with a satisfied smile.

"....to get out of here--"

Larry stopped, looking around in confusion, even as Velo, who had been in mid-leap when frozen, toppled to the floor.

"...what...?" Velo said, jerking up, staring all around him.

"Thot's it?" Z asked, looking at Jana. "No 'intense concentration', or, 'build up of energy', or any of that?"

Jana just shrugged, smiling.

"She's good..." Turkish nodded behind the woman, placing a hand on Jana's shoulder.

Grimm calmed LLance, even as Tayden helped Velo to his feet...

Epilogue: Mandelovia


Baron Zero stepped off of the platform to thunderous applause. It was another successful rally for the Left Hand movement, winning ever more followers to the cause within Mandelovia. Since the invasion by the Strikeforce, many within Mandelovia had begun to feel unsafe and threatened by outside forces. Zero played off of these fears like a master, gaining new converts at every rally.

As Zero walked backstage, he sat down in front of a monitor and turned it on. He removed his circular glasses and began to wipe his face down with a towel handed to him by his assistant. "Thank you, Paulo."

"Sit with me, we are about to witness history." Zero watched as images on the monitor screen began to take shape. General Colton D'Goon was on a stage of his own, delivering a speech of his own, denouncing the UN for invading Mandelovia, the US for being the US, and anyone else he had a grudge against at the moment.

"How long have we known each other, Paulo?" Zero asked, staring at the screen intently.

"Seven years, Baron." Paulo answered, curious as to what was so important. Paulo had been a soldier, a mercenary. Drifting without purpose until this person had come into his life, the guiding principles of the Left Hand movement filling him with new resolve: strength of will, triumph over adversity, the rightful rule of the strong.

But this new course, politics, Paulo was not comfortable with. He was a soldier, not a statesman. He felt out of his element. If the man called Baron Zero, felt out of place, however, he did not show it. "Seven years, a long time, eh?"

"A long time, as you say. I have fought beside you in many battles, Baron, but this political business, I am not comfortable with. It is not, my, what do they call it? Forte?"

"Paulo, we are on the cusp of the fruition of all those things I have set in motion over the last seven years, and even longer. Should we stay a small group, forever? On the run and hounded by authorities? No, Paulo, we must grow large and strong. Strong enough to exert our will upon the world, and face down those who would oppose us. Growth, however, requires change. And we must change to meet the needs of our new enterprise." Zero grew silent again, watching the screen intently, as if waiting for something. "Turn up the volume."

". . .announce my plan to bring forth a new defense against these metahuman lackeys of the US, this Strikeforce, and I want to make public, my first offer to the Vanguardians, who have already shown their willingness to aid the downtrodden Mandelovian peoples. . ." D'Goon was in full effect.

"Did he not already claim once that the Vanguards had defected to Mandelovia?" A confused look crossed Paulo's face.

"A small detail, Paulo, one that will be overlooked by most in regards to the larger picture. D'Goon knows this and will have a response waiting by the time the sheep attempt to use it against him."

Just then, a small, dark form darted out of the audience and jumped the stage, holding a small handgun he fired several shots into D'Goon's head and body, before taking the microphone and screaming "Mandelovia for Mandelovians! Death to traitors!" The man called Klaatu had just enough time to finish the second sentence before several armed Mandelovian guards fired upon him with their weapons killing him.

Paulo sat in front of the screen transfixed as chaos unfolded in front of him. Baron Zero smiled with cunning satisfaction. "I don't understand, Baron. There have been many attempts on D'Goon's life. How do we know this isn't a double, or that he is even really dead?"


"DNA tests will confirm that it is D'Goon and not one of his many doubles, such as that Agent Zeta. I have a friend who has a very peculiar talent. He has what some call the power of persuasion. Since I met D'Goon, he has spoken to him on the phone many times, including yesterday. D'Goon, strangely enough, forgot to wear the body armor he normally wore beneath his clothes. Klaatu, also, received a phone call yesterday. Tomorrow, D'Goon's will shall be discovered, naming me as his successor. Klaatu will be named as a sympathizer to the so called "Heritage" movement. Today is our day, Paulo. A new day dawning for the Left Hand and Mandelovia."

The Next Day.

Everyone in the team seemed (understandably) down. First Kristofer and now Mick. Two valuable team members and friends gone so quickly.
Even the newer members, who didn't get to know Mick much, felt saddened for his death... but perhaps they felt more saddened towards Shirley. She had just lost her fiancée and was obviously very disturbed. But, oddly enough, nobody ever saw her cry.
After Mick was kidnapped by Naecken, she cried all the time. When he died that changed. She would just stare into space in silence. She didn't ask to be left alone, but she never talked to anyone. When someone approached her and tried to talk, she politely thanked them and said nothing else. Different people have different ways of dealing with pain. Everyone assumed this was hers.

Late that night, Grimm was alone in his room preparing to go to bed, when his room's door suddenly opened. Shirley was standing on the hall. She looked as if she hadn’t had a minute of sleep in the last two days. And she hadn’t.

"You knew this was gonna happen, didn't you?" Shirley said, straight to the point.

Grimm was taken by surprise. Even he didn't understand these things very well. "Shirley, I..."

"I knew too."

Grimm said nothing.

"If you knew," Shirley continued a few seconds later, "then you probably know something's not right about this."

Grimm sighed. "Shirley, I know this is hard," he said in the most understanding tone he could produce, "but this is how life is. Or Death, rather. I myself l -"

"That's not what I meant." Shirley interrupted. "Something is not right. Can't you feel it?"

Grimm’s jaw opened."..."

Antartica

Flesh, blood, destroyed machinery, weapons and snow fill the landscape. Miles of miles covered by the unusual mix of leftovers. left by the war that took place here mere days ago. Nothing moves.
And then, something does. A small ball of bright light, the size a breath mint, comes from under a great pile of smashed hard ice... what used to be Naecken's castle.
The small light floats above the destroyed ice palace for a while, looking like it’s confused and trying to decide what to do (to someone who can tell what lights are thinking just by looking at them, I mean). Then it speeds into sky and disappears in the clouds.