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Issue #2 by William Sinclair
Oct 2009 |
“SEED OF EVIL – Part Two”
Earth 616, Two Years Ago...
She was smiling.
Alex Kent dared to take a look, his eyes wondering from the quite country road, to gaze upon his contented love. She was half asleep, slowly being lulled into a dream by the dying day, the sun that was falling below the far horizon, bathing the world in its orange glow. It was a blanket for her to be wrapped up in, a long and lazy moment in which to slumber.
A moment in which to be at peace.
It was a moment that was rare, to be in the company of his loving wife, away from the trials and troubles of his other life. A moment to be away from the pain that seemed intent on spreading itself across the entire globe. Away from those who wanted nothing more than to cause misery and despair. A moment away from safeguarding the entire world, and simply being able to enjoy his own.
A world that encompassed nothing more than his wife and daughter, his six month old daughter, slumbering in her safety seat without a care. He spared her a look as well, his eyes wondering to the review mirror, his infant child cooing in her sleep.
Her little hands twitched, some quite mumble emerging from between dimple cheeks, a happy sigh and then contentment. She slept, his infant child, his baby daughter, cradled within the dreams that only the young could have.
They were a gift, his wife and daughter, passed down to him from up on high, a gift he didn't deserve, a gift he would always treasure.
He never saw the truck coming...
# # # # #
Avalon, The Space Between Worlds, Today...
It wasn't real.
Dis-Bane, or Captain Colony as he was known amongst the ranks of the Terran Mammals, reminded himself of that more than once. It felt real, the touch of the golden railing beneath his hands, the smell of the orchids far below, the sights of the sweeping valleys that stretched as far as the eye could see. It wasn't real, it couldn't be.
Magic
Dis-Bane sniffed at the very thought, it was primitive, it was impractical, it was such a...Human notion.
The day was chill, which wasn't surprising given the supposed location of this Fortress, perched at the very peak of a goliath mountain, although this seemed to change from time to time. Some days it dominated the landscape of the sweeping plains, other times it sheltered within a mighty forest, yet others it settled atop the majestic oceans. The city was no idle thing, travelling without notice to where ever it did please.
Magic
Captain Colony sniffed again, as though the very thought of it was some foul odour. He had come to live with it, over time, and yet the very notion still rebelled against his lifetime thinking, his core beliefs. It was difficult, but he could adjust, and one day, he had promised himself, he would indeed explain it.
Magic
The very notion was bad humour, he would disprove it, he would explain it, all would come to understand that there was no Magic. There was only Science, there was only fact, and the Corps, despite its infestation of primitive, Terran cultures, would be all the better for it. He would bring enlightenment to the eyes of these Apes, although he doubted they would thank him for it.
From the moment that he had discovered the Multiverse, from the moment he had joined the Corps and had been rewarded incredible power, he had come to understand that Mankind was always the same, regardless of their Earth. None of them knew what was good for them.
Captain Colony found his musings interrupted, the Kree of high esteem detecting the sounds of commotion far below amongst the orchids. His human brothers seemed perplexed and suddenly unsure, several of their numbers heading quickly into the citadel. He could see them clearly amongst the apple trees, the reds, whites and blues of their uniforms, of the flags they wore, as they hurriedly moved inside.
A frown made its way to his blue lips, the Kree himself having not been made aware of anything unusual. With a scowl that lacked surprise, Captain Colony left the balcony he observed the others from; his intentions clear on meeting them inside.
With a harsh tug, he pulled tight his own uniform, one of emerald green and perfect white, the colours of his own, proud flag, every aspect of it meticulous in its care.
The Humans were so easily panicked, despite being amongst the best their respective worlds had to offer, and it would take the discipline of a Kree to calm them, to lead them. Sooner or later, they would come to understand that.
Just like the Humans of his own world.
# # # # #
Earth 616, Braddock Manor, Now...
It wasn't real.
Brain Braddock, or Captain Britain as he had once been known amongst the ranks of the Corps, reminded himself of that, even as the blade of ebony night pierced his neck. It's wicked edge drew blood, beads of it trailing down his throat and staining his white collar with its crimson mark. It felt real, its keen edge biting into his flesh, but Brian knew the truth, he knew the stink of the unnatural all to well, even when it was coming from his twin sister.
They stood together for the first time in months, alone amongst the foundations of their family estate, surrounded by the mannequins that wore his legacy. She assumed a predatory stance at his back, his own posture rigid as she held the phantom blade of midnight black across his neck, his twin sister breathing venom into his ear.
"WHERE IS IT!?!" she demanded to know, pulling swiftly with her blade and biting still deeper into his flesh. Brian flinched as little as he could, a fresh spurt of crimson fluid trailing down his throat and towards his chest. He stared forever forwards, vigilant in his gaze, catching their reflection in a monitor before them, seeing the malice in her eyes.
"Betsy..." he tried to reason, his voice both calm and steady, feeling the edge of that foul, whispering blade dig deeper with every moment, pleading to take his life.
"THE SPHERE!!" she demanded more harshly, her free hand digging into his side, slender fingers searching for the nerves that would shoot pain throughout his system.
"Elisabeth!" his tone turned hard, a firmness entering his furrowed brow, his hand clenching into a fist. He could see them both, reflected in the monitor, twins of magic and siblings who had shared a womb. For months he had tried to find her, his sister who had dived into the darkest depths of another nation, he would not allow himself to now die upon her blade.
Not with his wife and unborn...
"WHERE...!" suddenly she faulted, something shifting in her tone, some uncertainty sweeping through the malice in her eyes. There was clarity for a moment, and Brian saw it in their reflection, even as she held a blade of pestilence and night across his throat, some lingering remnant of the twin he knew.
"Brian...?" she asked, confusion painted in her features, her grip loosening about her blade. There was a dampness, the touch of blood that stained his shirt, only now it wasn't his. For a moment he could only panic, realisation dawning in his own eyes, the blood of his sister all but pouring down his back.
"BETSY!!" Brian Braddock spun to catch his sister, even before she began to fall, her life’s blood seeping freely from a dozen wounds across her arms and torso.
She fell and the blade of midnight black disappeared into a cloud of sickly vapours, something from the deepest dark snaking up to catch her...
# # # # #
Avalon, The Space Between Worlds, Today...
When she had been young, Roma had decreed that she would not be like her Father, when she had been young, Roma had been naive.
The chambers she now occupied had once belonged to Merlin, her predecessor and sire, the great, spherical room the very centre of Avalon. She stood within its heart, the great, sweeping architecture of stone and marble, of glass and crystal, circling and embracing her with flawless precision, every curve hand crafted by the finest artisans the Multiverse had ever known.
It was a cradle for the podium at its base, the accumulation of a thousand different worlds, a three dimensional map of the ever changing Multiverse. It was maddening to look upon, countless billions within a single image, the map of life itself.
Roma looked upon it now, her arms outstretched at either side, with cold and silent clarity. It was horrifying at times, how close to the brink everything would come, how close to the endless void each world could tumble. It was horrifying to know how easily she could fail.
Worst of all, was to know how many lives she was willing to sacrifice.
All of them.
The answer would have disgusted her once, hating how easily her Father would discard the lives of those whom had sworn loyalty. It had angered her once, how much her Father had toyed with the lives of those who willingly served within his Corps. It had ashamed her once, only watching as he pushed many of them beyond the bounds of sanity to achieve his goals.
Once.
Not now.
The Multiverse was both vast and fragile, and for each one world she could barely claim to have a single champion to protect their boarders. It was so close to splitting at the seams, the impossible machine that was reality.
Countless worlds or just one soul.
"What choice do I have?" she barely whispered, the slightest breach in her stony silence.
"Oh my sweet dear..."
Roma spun as she heard that voice, a sudden urgency in the beating of her heart and the twitch of her open hand, the limb brought up defensively before her. There was a shadow in the room of light and silence, a creeping stain of pestilence and despair, a travesty of life hidden deep beneath the voice of music.
"I have heard such things before..."
Roma did not falter as she stood before the podium, her face a stony mask as lighting danced between her fingers. The stench of bile was heavy in the air, the crooked hand of death crept deep into the walls, twisting the perfect symmetry into a foul reflection, a travesty of love hidden deep beneath the voice of music.
"I do believe there was an answer..."
With rose lips, the music was perverted, the blushed cheeks, the smile was corrupted, with deep blue eyes, the Multiverse was blinded.
"Do you believe in annihilation?"
# # # # #
Earth 616, Braddock Manor, Now…
Meggan Braddock was not at ease as she closed the bedroom window.
There was a storm outside, one that grew with each new moment, the clouds of night stretching thick across the whole horizon. There was a menace in the air, a sense of malice in the lighting that snapped from an angry sky. The world was silent; she could feel it, as a child of the living earth, fearful of the coming dawn.
Meggan winced and brought both her hands to her rounded belly, the precious child within her womb fitful from her anxiety. She apologised with the smallest smile, gently stroking the rounded bump, a calming hum upon her lips until the restless, unborn child began to settle. She could only wish her own feeling were so easily put at ease.
“Brian…” Meggan broke the silence as she returned to the bedside, the Guest Room suddenly having a new occupant. Worry was etched in her every feature as she retrieved a fresh, damp cloth from a waiting bowl of cold water, replacing the one that was now bone dry upon the sleeping forehead of her husbands twin sister.
Elizabeth looked no better as the cold cloth was draped across her burning flesh, the fervour showed no signs of breaking. The cuts and wounds that littered her arms and legs, and those scattered across her torso, looked no better despite some basic treatments, all of them were red, raw and angry against her pale complexion.
“We should get her to a hospital…” a quite firmness was now laced within the concern, Meggan Braddock taking her husbands hand as she sat beside him.
“Both of you” she felt the need to insist, knowing how stubborn he could be, even when his own throat was now red and raw.
“I know…” Brian answered, his shoulders rigid and his every muscle taunt as he looked down upon her fitful twin. He had never coped well when it came to his sister, her death had sent him spiralling into depression, her blinding had unleashed a savage streak of rage, her recent disappearance…
Sometimes Brian had to wonder if Elizabeth had ever felt the same.
“No…” he finally decided, shaking his head and yet moving to stand just the same “…no Hospitals, this isn’t normal, I’m calling Doctor Stra…”
With a frantic cry she was awake! Her fervour soon forgotten, her fitful sleep discarded, a burst of energy and she sat upright, her arms snatching out to grasp her twin about his head. There was a burst of frantic light, an explosion of violet as the butterfly erupted about her eyes, rising like a phoenix from a lake of darkness, and the Twins dived deep into each others soul…
# # # # #
Avalon, The Space Between Worlds, Today…
There was few within the Corps that Dis-Bane truly held in high regard, given that the ranks were filled with dullard apes didn’t help with first impressions, but there was occasionally one that even a well born Kree could respect. It was a rarity, true, but it did occur, no matter how grudgingly Captain Colony was to accept it.
The Greeting Hall was vast, its domed ceiling supported by colossal pillars that had the entire history of the Corps etched upon their surface. Silent Sentinels of members past, passing wisdom down upon those who now served the eternal cause. There was room enough for an army, tight formations and battle lines drawn in preparation for some desperate conflict.
Only once before had such a time been truly necessary.
Today it was almost empty, despite the ranks of Captains that trailed behind Dis-Bane, each one representing an entire world, each one currently stationed on, and charged with the safekeeping of Sacred Avalon. Dis-Bane couldn’t help but sneer, the gesture unseen by those who marched behind him; one would think they would present themselves with more order, with more dignity. Instead they made quite mumblings, shared uncertain gestures between each other, all of them lacking discipline in the face of this most unexpected of invasions.
Never before had the walls of Sacred Avalon been breached by a second band of its own Captains.
“Captain Albion” Dis-Bain nodded curtly as he came to a rigid stop opposite his counterpart form Earth Thirteen-Two-Eleven. Both parties came to a halt, several dozen Captains from vastly different worlds staring across at one another. Uncertainty was heavy in the air.
“I trust you have your reasons for arriving unannounced?” Captain Colony inquired, the Kree standing rigid and uncompromising.
“Unannounced?” Bran Bardic, Captain Albion of Earth Thirteen-Two-Eleven, summoned the broadest smile that was possible. The gesture was sincere, reflected in his eyes and his powerful posture, even as one hand remained restful upon the hilt of his ancient blade.
“My men and I make no secrets of our arrival, surely we stand here as guests within the walls of Sacred Avalon!” he made a gesture with his hand that was sweeping, encompassing all the Captains at his back, the ordered ranks nodding in single unison.
His features were partly obscured, a golden mask in the image of lion was held in place across his forehead and cheeks, beginning just above his jaw and ending at his hairline. The imagery was new, in many ways hiding his true identity, Captain Colony could half suspect why he wore it.
“Welcome, yes” Captain Colony nodded stiffly “but you were not invited, you have breached these walls without a summons…and you choice to bring an army at your back?”
“Surely, my brave brother…” the sincerity in his smile did not falter, Captain Albion clasping a firm hand upon the shoulder of the proud Kree.
“You do not disapprove…” there was a passing glint in his eyes, one reflected in his golden mask, the visage of a lion furrowed at the brow “…such a thing was your idea”.
“Once…” Captain Colony conceded, making no effort to remove the hand that was clasped upon his shoulder “…but some of us have learned our lesson”.
“A shame…” Captain Albion nodded, the briefest moment of disappointment passing through his saphire eyes “…but I understand”.
Neither the warmth of his smile, nor the sincerity of his greeting, were dimmed in any way, as Captain Albion slid his ancient blade from his scabbard and plunged it deep into the gut of his Brother Captain.
Dis-Bain could only sputter his disbelief as the sacred sword of steel and magic slid deep into his organs with the greatest ease, the blade slipping cleanly out his back without a hindrance. Blood spattered down his chin and his every muscle turned stiff and rigid, his eyes were wide and unbelieving as his entire world came crumbling down around him.
“Truly…” Bran Bardic promised, allowing his Brother Captain to slide limply off his bloodied blade.
“I understand”.
# # # # #
The sky was screaming.
From violent clouds, the blood was falling, a crimson river of despair that drowned a dead world in utter ruin. The earth was shaking, cracking at the seams and splintering into a multitude of shards, upturning the graves of the dead and leaking fire from the deepest depths.
There was singing, a chilling choir of the damned and lost, a melody for the falling heavens, a chorus for the final freedom. Throughout the universe it did spread, a shrieking sound of the sweetest melody, the final moment of mankind.
...remember...
From shattered ruins, the Spire did rise, a monolith of night, a tower of the shifting sands. There was no limit to its endless height, its reach without sight, its beginnings without a source. Built on pain and driven by despair, the pinnacle of desperation, the final moment of mankind.
...remember...
The whisper was hidden in the howling wind, a hidden sight within the crackling light, lost between the shattered moments of oblivion. The obelisk of night, the Spire of forgotten virtues, bled freely from a thousand cracks, the puss of sin and lost hope, the final moment of mankind.
...remember...
From the deepest dark, beneath the falling sky and the splitting earth, the was a cry of unearthly hope. A shattered man with endless dreams, a man of memories and love, a man who held desperately to his torso his only thing, a final thought, a stolen kiss, sealed deep with a shining sphere, the final moment of mankind.
...remember me...
Brian Braddock pulled himself away from the grasp of his twin sister with such force; he almost bodily drove his powerful frame through the wall behind him. Panic gripped his every nerve, his every inch drenched in cloying sweat, as one world snapped from one into the next.
He was home, his wife immediately at his side, hands upon his shoulders, concern and fear etched into her every feature. His twin sister, Elizabeth Braddock slumped backwards upon the bed, both her body and mind spent from exhaustion. The rain was falling, an angry hiss that spat against the windows of his grand estate, a hidden venom in every drop.
He was home, but he could scarcely see it, hidden behind the vision of despair, clouded by the Sphere of endless night, hidden behind the tears of blood and that streaked his cheeks.
# # # # #
Avalon, The Space Between Worlds, Today...
The Amulet or the Sword? It had seemed like a simple choice at the time, but every now and then, Jason Jackson really wished he had picked the frakking sword!!
As he dived to the side, his world erupted into a blast of splintering wood and shards of shattered debris. The mace of magic steel, a massive weapon once forged at the very heart of this very fortress, barely missed his evading frame by the merest inches. It pulverised the oak floor like fragile kindling, an explosion of scattered debris splintering off in all directions.
A roar of rage was hanging in the air as Jason Jackson, also known as Captain Flagship, rolled to his feet and then quickly threw himself down onto his own back, just barely avoiding a renewed swing that aimed to remove heads from shoulders. The heavy weapon tore through the vacant air like a thing possessed, its sheer force terrible to behold as it obliterated a heavy bookcase on the backswing with the greatest ease.
Captain Flagship was not going to waste a single moment, the follow through of the wild swing buying him a heartbeat to manoeuvre. The young man, a mere eighteen years of age, rolled backwards onto his shoulders before flipping up onto certain feet.
The ancient library of priceless lore was slowly being obliterated, the great chambers carved from ageless oak being reduced to so much debris as a maniac pursued his target through its hallowed isles. He was a monstrous creation, a man much larger than he should be, his every muscle rippling and his barrel chest roaring, his bloodshot eyes wild with rage. A savage Captain, wrapped in the tattered flag of his home, now bloodthirsty for the heads of his trusted Brothers.
"Frak it!!" Captain Flagship swore, the young man diving forwards, his well worn sneakers screeching across the polished wood beneath his feet, and throwing himself between his massive assailants wide spread legs.
This was insane, the Corps was being attacked by itself, and only one side seemed to be armed!
With tunnel rat grace, the young mans agility born from spending a lifetime repairing and maintaining the tight bowls of his fathers Cruiser, he slid beneath a finely crafted table before rolling, flipping and leaping towards a bookcase. With sure feet and strong fingers, Captain Flagship quickly found his purchase upon the shelves, pulling himself up and scuttling towards the top, high and above the floor.
A renewed roar of focused rage attracted his attention as the heavy mace of enchanted steel collided with his perch, obliterating the bookcase with a single, impossibly savage swing, books and ancient wood being sent spiralling in all directions. With a heavy grown, the bookcase buckled and collapsed with a mournful cry. Captain Flagship wasn't staying idle, vaulting free from his collapsing perch with supreme confidence, and grabbing a hold of a swinging chandelier high above the floor.
His momentum swung the chain that supported it to the ceiling with jarring purpose, the chandelier of heavy wood, four times the size of the average man, straining against its joints. With a quick, sharp and certain tug, the chain broke free, the whole contraption, along with Captain Flagship, his leather jacket and brown air whipping in the air, sent plummeting towards the ground with suicidal speed.
The impact was horrendous, the chandelier carved from the densest oak, crashing down upon the head of the enraged Captain, burying him beneath its obscene weight. Jason Jackson was not there, already diving away before the fatal impact collided, rolling, skittering and diving as he struck the floor and skidded away from the crash site.
After a moment he stood up, eyeing the pile and broken debris as a mountain of dust circulated the air. He brushed a hand across his shirt, the crest of his fathers cruiser embellished across its surface, sweeping away the dirt.
"Well..." he muttered.
"FRAK!" he cursed as threw up an arm to shield his eyes, a roar of blood and torment filling the massive chamber from wall to wall, the goliath of a man erupting from the carnage of shattered wood without a scratch upon him.
That’s when he saw her, not twenty feet away and hiding behind a table, a tiny dagger tightly clutched between her hands. She was Roma's new apprentice, the pink haired, elfin girl even younger than himself, for all the world looking like she shouldn't he there. She was terrified, this girl of books and hope, and yet Jason knew the will to strike when he saw it, the knife clutched between her hands levelled towards the insane Captain.
"GWYNN, NO!!" Captain Flagship shouted, the girl with elfin ears looking in his direction, panic in her features.
"RUN!" he pleaded, recognition in both their eyes, recognition for each other and the moments they had shared, moments that the had hoped they always would.
"RUN!!" he demanded and, to his own surprise, as a renewed roar of bloody rage filled his every sense, he felt no pain as the heavy mace of enchanted steel collided with his torso, shattering his ribs like broken twigs.
# # # # #
Earth 616, London, The Black Library, MI-13 Headquarters, Now...
"Kill it" Agent Baynams tone carried with it a distinct lack of mercy as she gave the order, her amber eyes staring at the abomination before her. It was confined, the pale skinned succubus with raven hair, slender wrists pinned securely behind its back, its dark and phantom eyes burning a hole deep into her soul.
The heart of Michelle Baynam did not miss a single beat as a guard pulled his firearm from his holster and proceeded to empty the barrel into the otherworldly creatures skull. The recoil was like thunder, the flash reflecting off the walls of the dark cell, the bark of the firearm drowning out the short, sharp squeal of the damned. There was blood of course, but nothing that was familiar to mankind, a pulpy substance that oozed across the floor, it was sure to leave stain.
Agent Baynam closed her amber eyes for just a moment, whispering a quite prayer to some distant deity. Taking life was not to be taken lightly, it was a sin against Gods creation, but some things had become a necessity. The succubus and her demon kin were higher up the food chain; they had to be eliminated first.
It didn't hurt that the Government shared a similar philosophy.
Suddenly he attention was divided, Agent Baynam ignoring the growing pool of inhuman bile that was slowly spreading towards her polished boots, as she retrieved her mobile from her jackets inside pocket. It stopped its vibration from the moment that she answered it, a moment of surprise folding across her brow, and reflecting in her amber eyes, as she realised who it was.
"Captain?" the smallest smile made its way to her features, knowing full well the irritation that such a title would cause the man. She had never known anyone to be so against being what they clearly were. Despite the obvious, he had little in common with...
"What, Captain I can't..." the smile quickly faded as Agent Baynam knew almost instantly that something was amiss. She quietly cursed herself as she could barely hear the man, his own voice drowned out by the howling wind.
"No, we couldn't..." she tried to answer the questions that were being fired in her direction, irritation building in her amber eyes "...stop, Captain, if you had agreed to be involved then we would..."
Agent Baynam resisted the urge to hang up, Braddock could be as stubborn as they came, but she referred to him as Captain purely out of respect, not due to any current standing. Something he himself had been keen to point out more than once before.
"It couldn't be destroyed..." Agent Baynam explained "...we have it contained...what...when?" she tried to ask a question of her own, and yet found the connection had been cut. A frown was buried deep within her amber eyes, the man had finally decided to impose himself upon MI-13 affairs.
Exactly when he wasn't wanted.
# # # # #
Avalon, The Space Between Worlds, Today...
Once, some part of Bran Bardic may have felt regret as another Captain slid limply off his ancient blade, the young women with golden hair slumping into a heap. He didn't recognise her, the entirety of her face obscured by a mask the colours of the British Flag, and yet he felt some lingering elements of kinship with the fallen champion. She was like him, in some obscure way, within her hand she still grasped the pommel of a sword, one she would have accepted from Merlin some years before.
Yes, it was regrettable, if he had met her before today, then perhaps they would have been allies, their choices leading along the same path.
Not that she would have lived much longer.
Such feelings passed, Captain Albion already wiping away the specs of blood that marked his golden mask. The crimson stains became smeared, marking the visage of the lion across its jaws, its maw now bloody with the deceased.
He observed his surroundings with cold detachment, Captain Albion of Earth Thirteen-Two-Eleven deep within the heart of Sacred Avalon. He had walked these halls before, the marble walls now spattered with the blood of brothers and filled with the screams of betrayal. Bran had not yet known the truth, as he paced the floor with absolute intent; he had not yet known the future of Mankind.
The inevitable and the sorrow.
The final moment...
With a furrowed brow and piercing eyes, with the melody of forgotten sin and freezing fire, he stalked upon the item of his desire. It was a shrine, a majestic display of virtue and compassion, of heroism and strength, it was a timeless relic of countless kings. Within its resting place, the blade of piercing light lay dormant, its pommel reaching for the heavens, its edge buried deep within the stone.
He threw his sword aside with little care, the ancient blade discarded and forgotten, crashing against the marble floor with a clang and awful clatter. It was a mournful cry, a pitiful whelp as its bloodied edge came to its final end, defiled with his contempt.
Captain Albion had not a care, the powerful blade a mere pittance in comparison to his final prize. With sapphire eyes he peered upon the relic of his desires, the symbol of his beloved Corps, and as the cries of those he once called brothers filled all his senses, Bran Bardic of Earth Thirteen-Two-Eleven reached and grasped the pommel of Excalibur.
With an almighty screech, with a thunder that filled the heavens and shattered stone, he heaved the relic from its resting place, and the Fortress of Scared Avalon was plunged deep into the darkness.
# # # # #
Avalon, The Space Between Worlds, Today...
She didn’t dare to fly, the elfin girl with bright pink hair dashing through the corridors as quickly as he legs would carry her. Both of her butterfly wings were pulled back tight, the brightly coloured appendages folded neatly against her spine. She could move faster if she unfurled them, taking flight and speeding through the air, but with how quickly things were changing, and how uncertain the path before her had become, she did not think she could ever stop in time if she had to.
Her heart was beating like a hammer, slamming against her ribcage faster than her own, rapid steps. She thought it would explode, the breathing of her lungs both deep and desperate as she clutched a massive book to her torso, both her arms wrapped around the tome of ancient lore as though it were a precious child. Gwynn didn’t really know what it was, she couldn’t even read its ancient writings, but she felt the need to save something from the carnage, anything she could.
There was an explosion that shook the walls and sent the elfin girl tumbling off her feet, the screams and shouts of pain and misery rippling down the hallway after her. She could hear them, the sounds of battle echoing from the walls, the clash of weapons and cries of hate and fury, the unrelenting din of a savage civil war.
Avalon was burning; the Captain Britain Corps had started the inferno.
When Gwynn could see again, the elfin girl struggling with nausea, she tried to stand and stumbled over to the musty tome of arcane lore, desperate to claim it to the safety of her arms once more. It was older than time itself, it contained secrets that could never again be relearned, it was a priceless key to the Multiverse, and it was the only thing that she could save.
Suddenly the wall exploded inwards, robbing the elfin girl of her sight and blinding her with chaos. Two figures crashed on through, one a man equipped in heavy armour, a terrific mane of bright red hair atop his battered helm, a sword of blemished silver held tightly within his fist. The second was no mortal thing, a machine built by man and given life by some other means, an artificial construct that had found itself a soul.
Gwynn could not tell friend from foe in the frantic moments that they passed, erupting through one wall and crashing through the next. They tumbled with each other, angry shouts mere inches from the other, locked together in what could be their final moments and disappearing out of sight towards what could be their mutual oblivion.
There was a desperate cry that ripped throughout all of Avalon, a weeping from the city as its heart was torn asunder. There was a darkness, one that fell across every room and robbed the world of light.
Gwynn blinked but nothing changed, the elfin girl panicking in the darkness that was not natural. Her heart was like a drum, beating to the desperate sounds of war, her breathing was like a hurricane, her lungs trying to keep up.
Lighting was in the air, Gwynn could feel it on her skin, rippling through her muscles and igniting in her mind. There was evil in the heart of Avalon, a sickness that would not stop, and in desperation the elfin girl with bright pink hair just wanted to be away.
There was a match, a spark of light and clear intent, and suddenly her entire world imploded. From outside, high atop its perch upon the highest mountain, the Fortress City of Sacred Avalon groaned and twisted. With an almighty groan of shifting stone, with the cracking granite and moving marble, with a terrific crash the mighty city tore free from its foundations and disappeared amongst a flash of lighting and ancient thunder.
In the time that followed, as boulders fell and fissures opened, as a titanic crack was now all that scared the tallest mountain, silence slowly found itself across the land. In a storm of lightning that eclipsed the heavens high above, the mighty fortress had vanished from its surface.
Avalon and all who lived there, had gone.
TO BE CONTINUED...
NEXT ISSUE: The Captain Britain Corps have been plunged into Civil War, and Captain Albion is the man responcible. What has driven him to take such actions, and what does he plan to do now that he has claimed the sword Excalibur? Meanwhile, events are unfolding that will bring about the final days of the 616, and as Brian Braddock attempts to unfold the truth, he may already be to late to prevent the death of one he loves...
She was smiling.
Alex Kent dared to take a look, his eyes wondering from the quite country road, to gaze upon his contented love. She was half asleep, slowly being lulled into a dream by the dying day, the sun that was falling below the far horizon, bathing the world in its orange glow. It was a blanket for her to be wrapped up in, a long and lazy moment in which to slumber.
A moment in which to be at peace.
It was a moment that was rare, to be in the company of his loving wife, away from the trials and troubles of his other life. A moment to be away from the pain that seemed intent on spreading itself across the entire globe. Away from those who wanted nothing more than to cause misery and despair. A moment away from safeguarding the entire world, and simply being able to enjoy his own.
A world that encompassed nothing more than his wife and daughter, his six month old daughter, slumbering in her safety seat without a care. He spared her a look as well, his eyes wondering to the review mirror, his infant child cooing in her sleep.
Her little hands twitched, some quite mumble emerging from between dimple cheeks, a happy sigh and then contentment. She slept, his infant child, his baby daughter, cradled within the dreams that only the young could have.
They were a gift, his wife and daughter, passed down to him from up on high, a gift he didn't deserve, a gift he would always treasure.
He never saw the truck coming...
# # # # #
Avalon, The Space Between Worlds, Today...
It wasn't real.
Dis-Bane, or Captain Colony as he was known amongst the ranks of the Terran Mammals, reminded himself of that more than once. It felt real, the touch of the golden railing beneath his hands, the smell of the orchids far below, the sights of the sweeping valleys that stretched as far as the eye could see. It wasn't real, it couldn't be.
Magic
Dis-Bane sniffed at the very thought, it was primitive, it was impractical, it was such a...Human notion.
The day was chill, which wasn't surprising given the supposed location of this Fortress, perched at the very peak of a goliath mountain, although this seemed to change from time to time. Some days it dominated the landscape of the sweeping plains, other times it sheltered within a mighty forest, yet others it settled atop the majestic oceans. The city was no idle thing, travelling without notice to where ever it did please.
Magic
Captain Colony sniffed again, as though the very thought of it was some foul odour. He had come to live with it, over time, and yet the very notion still rebelled against his lifetime thinking, his core beliefs. It was difficult, but he could adjust, and one day, he had promised himself, he would indeed explain it.
Magic
The very notion was bad humour, he would disprove it, he would explain it, all would come to understand that there was no Magic. There was only Science, there was only fact, and the Corps, despite its infestation of primitive, Terran cultures, would be all the better for it. He would bring enlightenment to the eyes of these Apes, although he doubted they would thank him for it.
From the moment that he had discovered the Multiverse, from the moment he had joined the Corps and had been rewarded incredible power, he had come to understand that Mankind was always the same, regardless of their Earth. None of them knew what was good for them.
Captain Colony found his musings interrupted, the Kree of high esteem detecting the sounds of commotion far below amongst the orchids. His human brothers seemed perplexed and suddenly unsure, several of their numbers heading quickly into the citadel. He could see them clearly amongst the apple trees, the reds, whites and blues of their uniforms, of the flags they wore, as they hurriedly moved inside.
A frown made its way to his blue lips, the Kree himself having not been made aware of anything unusual. With a scowl that lacked surprise, Captain Colony left the balcony he observed the others from; his intentions clear on meeting them inside.
With a harsh tug, he pulled tight his own uniform, one of emerald green and perfect white, the colours of his own, proud flag, every aspect of it meticulous in its care.
The Humans were so easily panicked, despite being amongst the best their respective worlds had to offer, and it would take the discipline of a Kree to calm them, to lead them. Sooner or later, they would come to understand that.
Just like the Humans of his own world.
# # # # #
Earth 616, Braddock Manor, Now...
It wasn't real.
Brain Braddock, or Captain Britain as he had once been known amongst the ranks of the Corps, reminded himself of that, even as the blade of ebony night pierced his neck. It's wicked edge drew blood, beads of it trailing down his throat and staining his white collar with its crimson mark. It felt real, its keen edge biting into his flesh, but Brian knew the truth, he knew the stink of the unnatural all to well, even when it was coming from his twin sister.
They stood together for the first time in months, alone amongst the foundations of their family estate, surrounded by the mannequins that wore his legacy. She assumed a predatory stance at his back, his own posture rigid as she held the phantom blade of midnight black across his neck, his twin sister breathing venom into his ear.
"WHERE IS IT!?!" she demanded to know, pulling swiftly with her blade and biting still deeper into his flesh. Brian flinched as little as he could, a fresh spurt of crimson fluid trailing down his throat and towards his chest. He stared forever forwards, vigilant in his gaze, catching their reflection in a monitor before them, seeing the malice in her eyes.
"Betsy..." he tried to reason, his voice both calm and steady, feeling the edge of that foul, whispering blade dig deeper with every moment, pleading to take his life.
"THE SPHERE!!" she demanded more harshly, her free hand digging into his side, slender fingers searching for the nerves that would shoot pain throughout his system.
"Elisabeth!" his tone turned hard, a firmness entering his furrowed brow, his hand clenching into a fist. He could see them both, reflected in the monitor, twins of magic and siblings who had shared a womb. For months he had tried to find her, his sister who had dived into the darkest depths of another nation, he would not allow himself to now die upon her blade.
Not with his wife and unborn...
"WHERE...!" suddenly she faulted, something shifting in her tone, some uncertainty sweeping through the malice in her eyes. There was clarity for a moment, and Brian saw it in their reflection, even as she held a blade of pestilence and night across his throat, some lingering remnant of the twin he knew.
"Brian...?" she asked, confusion painted in her features, her grip loosening about her blade. There was a dampness, the touch of blood that stained his shirt, only now it wasn't his. For a moment he could only panic, realisation dawning in his own eyes, the blood of his sister all but pouring down his back.
"BETSY!!" Brian Braddock spun to catch his sister, even before she began to fall, her life’s blood seeping freely from a dozen wounds across her arms and torso.
She fell and the blade of midnight black disappeared into a cloud of sickly vapours, something from the deepest dark snaking up to catch her...
# # # # #
Avalon, The Space Between Worlds, Today...
When she had been young, Roma had decreed that she would not be like her Father, when she had been young, Roma had been naive.
The chambers she now occupied had once belonged to Merlin, her predecessor and sire, the great, spherical room the very centre of Avalon. She stood within its heart, the great, sweeping architecture of stone and marble, of glass and crystal, circling and embracing her with flawless precision, every curve hand crafted by the finest artisans the Multiverse had ever known.
It was a cradle for the podium at its base, the accumulation of a thousand different worlds, a three dimensional map of the ever changing Multiverse. It was maddening to look upon, countless billions within a single image, the map of life itself.
Roma looked upon it now, her arms outstretched at either side, with cold and silent clarity. It was horrifying at times, how close to the brink everything would come, how close to the endless void each world could tumble. It was horrifying to know how easily she could fail.
Worst of all, was to know how many lives she was willing to sacrifice.
All of them.
The answer would have disgusted her once, hating how easily her Father would discard the lives of those whom had sworn loyalty. It had angered her once, how much her Father had toyed with the lives of those who willingly served within his Corps. It had ashamed her once, only watching as he pushed many of them beyond the bounds of sanity to achieve his goals.
Once.
Not now.
The Multiverse was both vast and fragile, and for each one world she could barely claim to have a single champion to protect their boarders. It was so close to splitting at the seams, the impossible machine that was reality.
Countless worlds or just one soul.
"What choice do I have?" she barely whispered, the slightest breach in her stony silence.
"Oh my sweet dear..."
Roma spun as she heard that voice, a sudden urgency in the beating of her heart and the twitch of her open hand, the limb brought up defensively before her. There was a shadow in the room of light and silence, a creeping stain of pestilence and despair, a travesty of life hidden deep beneath the voice of music.
"I have heard such things before..."
Roma did not falter as she stood before the podium, her face a stony mask as lighting danced between her fingers. The stench of bile was heavy in the air, the crooked hand of death crept deep into the walls, twisting the perfect symmetry into a foul reflection, a travesty of love hidden deep beneath the voice of music.
"I do believe there was an answer..."
With rose lips, the music was perverted, the blushed cheeks, the smile was corrupted, with deep blue eyes, the Multiverse was blinded.
"Do you believe in annihilation?"
# # # # #
Earth 616, Braddock Manor, Now…
Meggan Braddock was not at ease as she closed the bedroom window.
There was a storm outside, one that grew with each new moment, the clouds of night stretching thick across the whole horizon. There was a menace in the air, a sense of malice in the lighting that snapped from an angry sky. The world was silent; she could feel it, as a child of the living earth, fearful of the coming dawn.
Meggan winced and brought both her hands to her rounded belly, the precious child within her womb fitful from her anxiety. She apologised with the smallest smile, gently stroking the rounded bump, a calming hum upon her lips until the restless, unborn child began to settle. She could only wish her own feeling were so easily put at ease.
“Brian…” Meggan broke the silence as she returned to the bedside, the Guest Room suddenly having a new occupant. Worry was etched in her every feature as she retrieved a fresh, damp cloth from a waiting bowl of cold water, replacing the one that was now bone dry upon the sleeping forehead of her husbands twin sister.
Elizabeth looked no better as the cold cloth was draped across her burning flesh, the fervour showed no signs of breaking. The cuts and wounds that littered her arms and legs, and those scattered across her torso, looked no better despite some basic treatments, all of them were red, raw and angry against her pale complexion.
“We should get her to a hospital…” a quite firmness was now laced within the concern, Meggan Braddock taking her husbands hand as she sat beside him.
“Both of you” she felt the need to insist, knowing how stubborn he could be, even when his own throat was now red and raw.
“I know…” Brian answered, his shoulders rigid and his every muscle taunt as he looked down upon her fitful twin. He had never coped well when it came to his sister, her death had sent him spiralling into depression, her blinding had unleashed a savage streak of rage, her recent disappearance…
Sometimes Brian had to wonder if Elizabeth had ever felt the same.
“No…” he finally decided, shaking his head and yet moving to stand just the same “…no Hospitals, this isn’t normal, I’m calling Doctor Stra…”
With a frantic cry she was awake! Her fervour soon forgotten, her fitful sleep discarded, a burst of energy and she sat upright, her arms snatching out to grasp her twin about his head. There was a burst of frantic light, an explosion of violet as the butterfly erupted about her eyes, rising like a phoenix from a lake of darkness, and the Twins dived deep into each others soul…
# # # # #
Avalon, The Space Between Worlds, Today…
There was few within the Corps that Dis-Bane truly held in high regard, given that the ranks were filled with dullard apes didn’t help with first impressions, but there was occasionally one that even a well born Kree could respect. It was a rarity, true, but it did occur, no matter how grudgingly Captain Colony was to accept it.
The Greeting Hall was vast, its domed ceiling supported by colossal pillars that had the entire history of the Corps etched upon their surface. Silent Sentinels of members past, passing wisdom down upon those who now served the eternal cause. There was room enough for an army, tight formations and battle lines drawn in preparation for some desperate conflict.
Only once before had such a time been truly necessary.
Today it was almost empty, despite the ranks of Captains that trailed behind Dis-Bane, each one representing an entire world, each one currently stationed on, and charged with the safekeeping of Sacred Avalon. Dis-Bane couldn’t help but sneer, the gesture unseen by those who marched behind him; one would think they would present themselves with more order, with more dignity. Instead they made quite mumblings, shared uncertain gestures between each other, all of them lacking discipline in the face of this most unexpected of invasions.
Never before had the walls of Sacred Avalon been breached by a second band of its own Captains.
“Captain Albion” Dis-Bain nodded curtly as he came to a rigid stop opposite his counterpart form Earth Thirteen-Two-Eleven. Both parties came to a halt, several dozen Captains from vastly different worlds staring across at one another. Uncertainty was heavy in the air.
“I trust you have your reasons for arriving unannounced?” Captain Colony inquired, the Kree standing rigid and uncompromising.
“Unannounced?” Bran Bardic, Captain Albion of Earth Thirteen-Two-Eleven, summoned the broadest smile that was possible. The gesture was sincere, reflected in his eyes and his powerful posture, even as one hand remained restful upon the hilt of his ancient blade.
“My men and I make no secrets of our arrival, surely we stand here as guests within the walls of Sacred Avalon!” he made a gesture with his hand that was sweeping, encompassing all the Captains at his back, the ordered ranks nodding in single unison.
His features were partly obscured, a golden mask in the image of lion was held in place across his forehead and cheeks, beginning just above his jaw and ending at his hairline. The imagery was new, in many ways hiding his true identity, Captain Colony could half suspect why he wore it.
“Welcome, yes” Captain Colony nodded stiffly “but you were not invited, you have breached these walls without a summons…and you choice to bring an army at your back?”
“Surely, my brave brother…” the sincerity in his smile did not falter, Captain Albion clasping a firm hand upon the shoulder of the proud Kree.
“You do not disapprove…” there was a passing glint in his eyes, one reflected in his golden mask, the visage of a lion furrowed at the brow “…such a thing was your idea”.
“Once…” Captain Colony conceded, making no effort to remove the hand that was clasped upon his shoulder “…but some of us have learned our lesson”.
“A shame…” Captain Albion nodded, the briefest moment of disappointment passing through his saphire eyes “…but I understand”.
Neither the warmth of his smile, nor the sincerity of his greeting, were dimmed in any way, as Captain Albion slid his ancient blade from his scabbard and plunged it deep into the gut of his Brother Captain.
Dis-Bain could only sputter his disbelief as the sacred sword of steel and magic slid deep into his organs with the greatest ease, the blade slipping cleanly out his back without a hindrance. Blood spattered down his chin and his every muscle turned stiff and rigid, his eyes were wide and unbelieving as his entire world came crumbling down around him.
“Truly…” Bran Bardic promised, allowing his Brother Captain to slide limply off his bloodied blade.
“I understand”.
# # # # #
The sky was screaming.
From violent clouds, the blood was falling, a crimson river of despair that drowned a dead world in utter ruin. The earth was shaking, cracking at the seams and splintering into a multitude of shards, upturning the graves of the dead and leaking fire from the deepest depths.
There was singing, a chilling choir of the damned and lost, a melody for the falling heavens, a chorus for the final freedom. Throughout the universe it did spread, a shrieking sound of the sweetest melody, the final moment of mankind.
...remember...
From shattered ruins, the Spire did rise, a monolith of night, a tower of the shifting sands. There was no limit to its endless height, its reach without sight, its beginnings without a source. Built on pain and driven by despair, the pinnacle of desperation, the final moment of mankind.
...remember...
The whisper was hidden in the howling wind, a hidden sight within the crackling light, lost between the shattered moments of oblivion. The obelisk of night, the Spire of forgotten virtues, bled freely from a thousand cracks, the puss of sin and lost hope, the final moment of mankind.
...remember...
From the deepest dark, beneath the falling sky and the splitting earth, the was a cry of unearthly hope. A shattered man with endless dreams, a man of memories and love, a man who held desperately to his torso his only thing, a final thought, a stolen kiss, sealed deep with a shining sphere, the final moment of mankind.
...remember me...
Brian Braddock pulled himself away from the grasp of his twin sister with such force; he almost bodily drove his powerful frame through the wall behind him. Panic gripped his every nerve, his every inch drenched in cloying sweat, as one world snapped from one into the next.
He was home, his wife immediately at his side, hands upon his shoulders, concern and fear etched into her every feature. His twin sister, Elizabeth Braddock slumped backwards upon the bed, both her body and mind spent from exhaustion. The rain was falling, an angry hiss that spat against the windows of his grand estate, a hidden venom in every drop.
He was home, but he could scarcely see it, hidden behind the vision of despair, clouded by the Sphere of endless night, hidden behind the tears of blood and that streaked his cheeks.
# # # # #
Avalon, The Space Between Worlds, Today...
The Amulet or the Sword? It had seemed like a simple choice at the time, but every now and then, Jason Jackson really wished he had picked the frakking sword!!
As he dived to the side, his world erupted into a blast of splintering wood and shards of shattered debris. The mace of magic steel, a massive weapon once forged at the very heart of this very fortress, barely missed his evading frame by the merest inches. It pulverised the oak floor like fragile kindling, an explosion of scattered debris splintering off in all directions.
A roar of rage was hanging in the air as Jason Jackson, also known as Captain Flagship, rolled to his feet and then quickly threw himself down onto his own back, just barely avoiding a renewed swing that aimed to remove heads from shoulders. The heavy weapon tore through the vacant air like a thing possessed, its sheer force terrible to behold as it obliterated a heavy bookcase on the backswing with the greatest ease.
Captain Flagship was not going to waste a single moment, the follow through of the wild swing buying him a heartbeat to manoeuvre. The young man, a mere eighteen years of age, rolled backwards onto his shoulders before flipping up onto certain feet.
The ancient library of priceless lore was slowly being obliterated, the great chambers carved from ageless oak being reduced to so much debris as a maniac pursued his target through its hallowed isles. He was a monstrous creation, a man much larger than he should be, his every muscle rippling and his barrel chest roaring, his bloodshot eyes wild with rage. A savage Captain, wrapped in the tattered flag of his home, now bloodthirsty for the heads of his trusted Brothers.
"Frak it!!" Captain Flagship swore, the young man diving forwards, his well worn sneakers screeching across the polished wood beneath his feet, and throwing himself between his massive assailants wide spread legs.
This was insane, the Corps was being attacked by itself, and only one side seemed to be armed!
With tunnel rat grace, the young mans agility born from spending a lifetime repairing and maintaining the tight bowls of his fathers Cruiser, he slid beneath a finely crafted table before rolling, flipping and leaping towards a bookcase. With sure feet and strong fingers, Captain Flagship quickly found his purchase upon the shelves, pulling himself up and scuttling towards the top, high and above the floor.
A renewed roar of focused rage attracted his attention as the heavy mace of enchanted steel collided with his perch, obliterating the bookcase with a single, impossibly savage swing, books and ancient wood being sent spiralling in all directions. With a heavy grown, the bookcase buckled and collapsed with a mournful cry. Captain Flagship wasn't staying idle, vaulting free from his collapsing perch with supreme confidence, and grabbing a hold of a swinging chandelier high above the floor.
His momentum swung the chain that supported it to the ceiling with jarring purpose, the chandelier of heavy wood, four times the size of the average man, straining against its joints. With a quick, sharp and certain tug, the chain broke free, the whole contraption, along with Captain Flagship, his leather jacket and brown air whipping in the air, sent plummeting towards the ground with suicidal speed.
The impact was horrendous, the chandelier carved from the densest oak, crashing down upon the head of the enraged Captain, burying him beneath its obscene weight. Jason Jackson was not there, already diving away before the fatal impact collided, rolling, skittering and diving as he struck the floor and skidded away from the crash site.
After a moment he stood up, eyeing the pile and broken debris as a mountain of dust circulated the air. He brushed a hand across his shirt, the crest of his fathers cruiser embellished across its surface, sweeping away the dirt.
"Well..." he muttered.
"FRAK!" he cursed as threw up an arm to shield his eyes, a roar of blood and torment filling the massive chamber from wall to wall, the goliath of a man erupting from the carnage of shattered wood without a scratch upon him.
That’s when he saw her, not twenty feet away and hiding behind a table, a tiny dagger tightly clutched between her hands. She was Roma's new apprentice, the pink haired, elfin girl even younger than himself, for all the world looking like she shouldn't he there. She was terrified, this girl of books and hope, and yet Jason knew the will to strike when he saw it, the knife clutched between her hands levelled towards the insane Captain.
"GWYNN, NO!!" Captain Flagship shouted, the girl with elfin ears looking in his direction, panic in her features.
"RUN!" he pleaded, recognition in both their eyes, recognition for each other and the moments they had shared, moments that the had hoped they always would.
"RUN!!" he demanded and, to his own surprise, as a renewed roar of bloody rage filled his every sense, he felt no pain as the heavy mace of enchanted steel collided with his torso, shattering his ribs like broken twigs.
# # # # #
Earth 616, London, The Black Library, MI-13 Headquarters, Now...
"Kill it" Agent Baynams tone carried with it a distinct lack of mercy as she gave the order, her amber eyes staring at the abomination before her. It was confined, the pale skinned succubus with raven hair, slender wrists pinned securely behind its back, its dark and phantom eyes burning a hole deep into her soul.
The heart of Michelle Baynam did not miss a single beat as a guard pulled his firearm from his holster and proceeded to empty the barrel into the otherworldly creatures skull. The recoil was like thunder, the flash reflecting off the walls of the dark cell, the bark of the firearm drowning out the short, sharp squeal of the damned. There was blood of course, but nothing that was familiar to mankind, a pulpy substance that oozed across the floor, it was sure to leave stain.
Agent Baynam closed her amber eyes for just a moment, whispering a quite prayer to some distant deity. Taking life was not to be taken lightly, it was a sin against Gods creation, but some things had become a necessity. The succubus and her demon kin were higher up the food chain; they had to be eliminated first.
It didn't hurt that the Government shared a similar philosophy.
Suddenly he attention was divided, Agent Baynam ignoring the growing pool of inhuman bile that was slowly spreading towards her polished boots, as she retrieved her mobile from her jackets inside pocket. It stopped its vibration from the moment that she answered it, a moment of surprise folding across her brow, and reflecting in her amber eyes, as she realised who it was.
"Captain?" the smallest smile made its way to her features, knowing full well the irritation that such a title would cause the man. She had never known anyone to be so against being what they clearly were. Despite the obvious, he had little in common with...
"What, Captain I can't..." the smile quickly faded as Agent Baynam knew almost instantly that something was amiss. She quietly cursed herself as she could barely hear the man, his own voice drowned out by the howling wind.
"No, we couldn't..." she tried to answer the questions that were being fired in her direction, irritation building in her amber eyes "...stop, Captain, if you had agreed to be involved then we would..."
Agent Baynam resisted the urge to hang up, Braddock could be as stubborn as they came, but she referred to him as Captain purely out of respect, not due to any current standing. Something he himself had been keen to point out more than once before.
"It couldn't be destroyed..." Agent Baynam explained "...we have it contained...what...when?" she tried to ask a question of her own, and yet found the connection had been cut. A frown was buried deep within her amber eyes, the man had finally decided to impose himself upon MI-13 affairs.
Exactly when he wasn't wanted.
# # # # #
Avalon, The Space Between Worlds, Today...
Once, some part of Bran Bardic may have felt regret as another Captain slid limply off his ancient blade, the young women with golden hair slumping into a heap. He didn't recognise her, the entirety of her face obscured by a mask the colours of the British Flag, and yet he felt some lingering elements of kinship with the fallen champion. She was like him, in some obscure way, within her hand she still grasped the pommel of a sword, one she would have accepted from Merlin some years before.
Yes, it was regrettable, if he had met her before today, then perhaps they would have been allies, their choices leading along the same path.
Not that she would have lived much longer.
Such feelings passed, Captain Albion already wiping away the specs of blood that marked his golden mask. The crimson stains became smeared, marking the visage of the lion across its jaws, its maw now bloody with the deceased.
He observed his surroundings with cold detachment, Captain Albion of Earth Thirteen-Two-Eleven deep within the heart of Sacred Avalon. He had walked these halls before, the marble walls now spattered with the blood of brothers and filled with the screams of betrayal. Bran had not yet known the truth, as he paced the floor with absolute intent; he had not yet known the future of Mankind.
The inevitable and the sorrow.
The final moment...
With a furrowed brow and piercing eyes, with the melody of forgotten sin and freezing fire, he stalked upon the item of his desire. It was a shrine, a majestic display of virtue and compassion, of heroism and strength, it was a timeless relic of countless kings. Within its resting place, the blade of piercing light lay dormant, its pommel reaching for the heavens, its edge buried deep within the stone.
He threw his sword aside with little care, the ancient blade discarded and forgotten, crashing against the marble floor with a clang and awful clatter. It was a mournful cry, a pitiful whelp as its bloodied edge came to its final end, defiled with his contempt.
Captain Albion had not a care, the powerful blade a mere pittance in comparison to his final prize. With sapphire eyes he peered upon the relic of his desires, the symbol of his beloved Corps, and as the cries of those he once called brothers filled all his senses, Bran Bardic of Earth Thirteen-Two-Eleven reached and grasped the pommel of Excalibur.
With an almighty screech, with a thunder that filled the heavens and shattered stone, he heaved the relic from its resting place, and the Fortress of Scared Avalon was plunged deep into the darkness.
# # # # #
Avalon, The Space Between Worlds, Today...
She didn’t dare to fly, the elfin girl with bright pink hair dashing through the corridors as quickly as he legs would carry her. Both of her butterfly wings were pulled back tight, the brightly coloured appendages folded neatly against her spine. She could move faster if she unfurled them, taking flight and speeding through the air, but with how quickly things were changing, and how uncertain the path before her had become, she did not think she could ever stop in time if she had to.
Her heart was beating like a hammer, slamming against her ribcage faster than her own, rapid steps. She thought it would explode, the breathing of her lungs both deep and desperate as she clutched a massive book to her torso, both her arms wrapped around the tome of ancient lore as though it were a precious child. Gwynn didn’t really know what it was, she couldn’t even read its ancient writings, but she felt the need to save something from the carnage, anything she could.
There was an explosion that shook the walls and sent the elfin girl tumbling off her feet, the screams and shouts of pain and misery rippling down the hallway after her. She could hear them, the sounds of battle echoing from the walls, the clash of weapons and cries of hate and fury, the unrelenting din of a savage civil war.
Avalon was burning; the Captain Britain Corps had started the inferno.
When Gwynn could see again, the elfin girl struggling with nausea, she tried to stand and stumbled over to the musty tome of arcane lore, desperate to claim it to the safety of her arms once more. It was older than time itself, it contained secrets that could never again be relearned, it was a priceless key to the Multiverse, and it was the only thing that she could save.
Suddenly the wall exploded inwards, robbing the elfin girl of her sight and blinding her with chaos. Two figures crashed on through, one a man equipped in heavy armour, a terrific mane of bright red hair atop his battered helm, a sword of blemished silver held tightly within his fist. The second was no mortal thing, a machine built by man and given life by some other means, an artificial construct that had found itself a soul.
Gwynn could not tell friend from foe in the frantic moments that they passed, erupting through one wall and crashing through the next. They tumbled with each other, angry shouts mere inches from the other, locked together in what could be their final moments and disappearing out of sight towards what could be their mutual oblivion.
There was a desperate cry that ripped throughout all of Avalon, a weeping from the city as its heart was torn asunder. There was a darkness, one that fell across every room and robbed the world of light.
Gwynn blinked but nothing changed, the elfin girl panicking in the darkness that was not natural. Her heart was like a drum, beating to the desperate sounds of war, her breathing was like a hurricane, her lungs trying to keep up.
Lighting was in the air, Gwynn could feel it on her skin, rippling through her muscles and igniting in her mind. There was evil in the heart of Avalon, a sickness that would not stop, and in desperation the elfin girl with bright pink hair just wanted to be away.
There was a match, a spark of light and clear intent, and suddenly her entire world imploded. From outside, high atop its perch upon the highest mountain, the Fortress City of Sacred Avalon groaned and twisted. With an almighty groan of shifting stone, with the cracking granite and moving marble, with a terrific crash the mighty city tore free from its foundations and disappeared amongst a flash of lighting and ancient thunder.
In the time that followed, as boulders fell and fissures opened, as a titanic crack was now all that scared the tallest mountain, silence slowly found itself across the land. In a storm of lightning that eclipsed the heavens high above, the mighty fortress had vanished from its surface.
Avalon and all who lived there, had gone.
TO BE CONTINUED...
NEXT ISSUE: The Captain Britain Corps have been plunged into Civil War, and Captain Albion is the man responcible. What has driven him to take such actions, and what does he plan to do now that he has claimed the sword Excalibur? Meanwhile, events are unfolding that will bring about the final days of the 616, and as Brian Braddock attempts to unfold the truth, he may already be to late to prevent the death of one he loves...