"It had been weeks since my last mission with the Avengers. The team had immediately disbanded after the death of Vision. I tried to tell myself we could go on, that the synthetic blood staining the hands of Hank Pym didn't reach all of us. But that was just wishful thinking.
"Captain America was the first to walk away. I remembered him leaving the East Coast team years back after the Black Knight killed the Supreme Intelligence. Murder never really sat very well with Cap.
Nobody said a word when he packed his shield up and left. How could they?
"Hank and Jan left the next day. I talked to Jarvis, and he told me that Jan had been planning to go even before the Wakanda mission. And then when we came back, and she saw the look of utter defeat in her husband's eyes…
"Hank was broken inside. He and Vision had been close. As close as any of the Avengers. Grandfather and grandson. He needed to leave. He needed his wife to take care of him. And Jan had been looking for an excuse to take care of her husband for years, even if she wasn't saying it.
"I think Hank and Jan are what made Justice and Firestar lose their nerve. Those two young kids, with all the love for each other in the world, looking down at an older married couple hardened and blistered by years of struggle and pain. What choice did they have? They wanted to live a happy life, a life without that kind of pain. So they went back to the streets. Knocking out petty hustlers and dime-sack pushers. Leave the big baddies to the real heroes, right?
"Captain Marvel watched them all go, and then he went too. He made some excuse about being called away on a matter of 'cosmic importance'. But I could see the hurt in the kid's star-lit eyes. He'd just made the roster, and now all his teammates were abandoning the cause. He couldn't do it all on his own, and sometimes it's easier to just get while the gettin's good.
"Photon went back to her fishing boat. I'd seen it a few times before. When things got too intense for her, that was what she needed to release, to think through her problems. She felt as if she was to blame for the Vision's death. She told me she had nightmares, flashes of Pym holding the Vision's shattered brain in his hands with her hard-light energy dissipating around Hank's hunched shoulders. She blinked out of the mansion the next day. The fact that her actions had saved the lives of every other member of the team and probably millions more on top of that wasn't enough. It never is.
"In the end it was Iron Man, Hawkeye, Wanda and me. We were all that was left of the roster. And then lightning roared down from the heavens and Thor was there. Tony had gotten in contact with him somehow. We needed to deepen the roster a bit. But the big guy was furious. He raged at Tony over the death of the Vision. One of our own, fallen. But there was nothing to avenge this time. We'd been saving our own lives.
"Iron Man was usually just that. Iron. Unflappable. But something broke in him when Thor accused us. He growled something about how if Thor was such a hotshot he should just run the Avengers himself. Then he fired those bootjets of his and was gone before Thor could take a breath to reply.
"I wanted to leave too. I was ashamed of what had happened to the Avengers. But I had Wanda to consider. Something had changed in her. I tried with all of my might to love her. To recapture some of those feelings we'd had for each other. But they were gone. They'd melted away with the Vision's vibranium body and been left back in the darkened jungles of Wakanda.
"And I think she wanted to lose herself in the action. She was at Thor's side a lot in those early days when he took control of the team. I think that's where he got the idea for all those high-powered recruits he placed on the team. Clint was shell-shocked by all the new blood. The Avengers didn't operate this way, he told Thor on more than one occasion. But Thor wasn't listening to a word Clint had to say. And Wanda wasn't either. Wanda and Hawk had been close, were close, but all that was out the window and gone.
"Hawkeye left one of his patented notes stuck to the fridge with a magnet. And then he was gone too.
"I could have stayed. I was powerful enough to be part of the roster. I could hold my own with any one of the powerhouses Thor was bringing in from the outside. And it didn't seem like Wanda had any animosity towards me. She was just indifferent. And it wasn't like Thor was angry with me. I'd put up the good fight against Vizh. I guess ol' goldilocks could respect that.
"But there wouldn't have been any point to staying. Wanda and I were all that was left of the old order. I knew Sersi fairly well, and I'd talked with Crystal a few times. The others were an enigma to me. I knew Hyperion only by the shots we'd traded over the years. The Avengers was something else now. And I didn't belong.
"So I ran.
"And I've been running ever since."
Bringing out the Dead
Part Oneby Mike Exner III
"That's a hell of a story, Mr. Williams," the man sitting behind the flimsy wooden table said. He glanced at his colleagues sitting alongside him, and then his eyes shifted to the sheet of paper held in his hand. Simon Williams could see the picture of himself on the back of the leaflet. The man in the picture was smiling, confident. It was like looking at a picture of someone else.
The director cleared his throat and Simon looked up at him. "But, ah… I really don't see what it has to do with this part."
Simon Williams frowned. He'd been afraid something like this would happen. He'd never been the best of actors, the majority of his parts having come as a result of his popularity and reputation as an Avenger more than his dramatic skill. And when his agent had suggested he tap into the obvious depression and pain he was feeling to help him capture the character he was trying to portray, he'd hesitantly put together a dialogue for the director. But it hadn't felt right when he wrote it, and it hadn't felt right while he was relating it to the strangers sitting in front of him.
And now he felt guilty. Guilty and stupid. What the hell was he doing here? Why was he telling these people anything about himself, his friends, his family?
"Mr. Williams? Are you all right?"
Simon ran a hand through his thin hair and clenched his teeth tightly. "I'm fine. Just feeling a bit lightheaded. I think I need some air."
"Well, we are on a schedule, Mr. Williams. Quite a few actors out in the hallway we need to see. I'm sure you can understand the dilemma."
Simon nodded. "Yeah…" Ionic energy bubbled up into his stomach, igniting the air in his lungs, causing his entire body to tingle.
"Mr. Williams? Can you contin-" He heard the audible gasps of the director, producers and casting specialists behind their pathetic excuse for a table. Simon Williams became Wonder Man. Changing before their very eyes.
He lifted into the air, and didn't even look at the amazed faces of the people he'd come to Burbank to impress as he took off, slipping neatly through an open window and arcing towards the horizon. Within moments, he was nothing more than a dot in the sky.
"…I can understand the dilemma."
"So… I was thinking maybe you give me your number and I tear this ticket up, whad'ya say?"
Megan Ferguson sighed, and her eyes did a slow half-roll. She didn't try to hide her revulsion. She wanted the pig to see that she'd rather dunk her head in a cauldron of scalding oil than speak another word to him. But the cop pretended not to notice.
"C'mon… I'll show you a good time. I'm real friendly." The cop laid a hand gently on Megan's shoulder. She immediately shrugged it off. She'd sped through a yellow light on her way home, the traffic in West Hollywood as clear as a pane of glass for the first time she could remember, and the flashing red and blues had appeared only seconds after.
"Just give me the ticket, okay, Sipowicz? You're not my type."
The cop's jovial face twisted into an ugly scowl. "That's NYPD Blue, darling. Mistaking the LAPD for one of New York's lamest is something like an insult, you know? You're not trying to insult me, are you?"
"You're doing a fine job without my help, officer," Megan replied, and knew immediately that she'd gone too far. The cop reached behind him and produced a flip-pad. That last barb was going to cost her.
The cop smiled. It was a horrible grin. His teeth were a rotten shade of yellow. Megan shuddered, and the cop's leer grew wider. "Let me see here. Running a light. Speeding. Failure to cooperate with an officer of the law. Well…" the cop paused as he glanced at Megan's ID, "…Megan, is it? Seems as though you'll be paying a pretty hefty fine. Sure you don't want to reconsider that offer for dinner?"
"I'd rather puke razorblades, you sick-" But Megan never finished her sentence. One moment officer Timothy Daniels was talking with the pretty young thing, and the next, her car was ablaze, and her features were roasting, melting, before his eyes. Timothy screamed. And then he realized his hair was on fire. He reached up and slapped himself on top of the head in an effort to put out the blaze, and then a shadow passed over him.
Timothy looked up. A man as large as a house stood over him. His body was ablaze, his eyes as white as elephant tusks, completely devoid of any pupils. Timothy screamed again, his tongue and teeth roasting, and then the giant brought his fist down, and Timothy screamed no more.
A glass mug slammed onto the hardtop of the Sidewinder Bar and Grill. "Thou art an interesting man, friend Dane," Hercules intoned drunkenly. He ogled a waitress as she strode past.
"And you, Herc," Dane Whitman replied with a wry grin, "are drunk."
"Inebriated?" Hercules bellowed, causing Dane to glance sheepishly around at the other patrons of the grill. "Surely thou dost jest, sir knight. The Prince of Power hath ne'er succumbed to the ministrations of even the most hearty of ales."
Dane laughed. "Riiiiiiight. Remember last Christmas? Wasn't that you in the corner with the ornaments hung on your ears, pretending to be the tree?"
Hercules' eyes opened wide in shock, then narrowed into tiny slits as he tried to focus on his friend. Dane had to resist the urge to laugh again. "Friend Dane, surely thou must be mistaken. The son of Zeus hath surely ne'er performed with such ignoble mannerisms."
"I got the pictures to prove it, buddy," Dane said, and clapped his friend on the shoulder as he slid of his barstool. "I've got to take a leak. Try not to break anything while I'm gone."
"Aye… aye," Hercules replied, his vision pleasantly glazed. "Be wary, friend Dane, that thou dost not fall in."
Dane Whitman laughed again as he angled towards the restrooms at the far end of the bar. He could already hear Hercules asking the bartender for another drink in his booming voice. The man had an insatiable appetite for alcohol once he got started. After all the problems the Avengers had encountered in the past with members of the team succumbing to alcoholism, Dane was surprised he could be so nonchalant about his own friend's drinking habits. But the body of a demi-god was famously resistant. Hercules usually burned off whatever he consumed within minutes. By the time they finished the cab ride back to the hotel, Herc would be fine.
Dane pushed the door to the lavatory open and settled in front of one of the urinals. His thoughts danced around in his head as he regarded the bathroom tiling in front of him.
He wasn't exactly sure why he was here instead of with his teammates… with the Avengers.* But someone had gone to a lot of trouble to get him here. Messages left at the mansion, at his castle estate. Plane tickets sent through the mail. All from a corporation Dane had never heard of. LL Incorporated.
* (The Black Knight is currently a member of M2K's mighty Avengers - Mike)
He'd arranged for a leave of absence from the Avengers, and Hercules had come along on one of his patented whims. LL Incorporated had set them up in a lavish hotel suite, and a limo had arrived the following morning to deliver Dane to the front doors of the massive building that housed their headquarters. He had been escorted through the complex, catching glimpses of high-tech labs and state of the art manufacturing facilities. It was almost as if they were showing Dane everything he wanted to see in order to lull him into signing on the dotted line. But no contract was offered. He hadn't even been offered a job, really. He'd come away impressed with LL Incorporated, but nothing more.
And he hadn't even had the chance to meet the man behind the masterpiece. And although that was a little strange, his host, a blonde bombshell named Vicki, had assured him that the President of the corporation was quite anxious to meet him, and so Dane had let it slide. The place had been bustling with activity. It wasn't all that far-fetched to believe the guy had more pressing matters to attend to. But he wasn't sure what to think of it all. Not one little bit.
Dane was torn from his thoughts as a tremor shook the ground. He had to struggle to maintain his balance as the air around him swelled with the muffled sound of an explosion.
"What in the hell was that?" Dane asked the walls as he zipped up hastily. He sprinted towards the door. Last call at the Sidewinder was going to be sooner than expected.
Robert "Robbie" Baldwin heard the explosion, and then the woman's scream from around the corner as he was stepping out of a local comic shop. His friends were with him. A former high school buddy of his was getting married and he'd requested some time away from Force Works to be the best man.* The bachelor party had been the night before, the wedding was in a few short hours. As usual, Robbie had convinced everybody the time would be best spent goofing around. It was so strange, his friend getting married. He couldn't picture himself taking the long walk down that aisle, and before his friend had called, he would have said the same of any of his buddies. But he didn't have time to think about it now.
* (Speedball is a core member of M2K's super-team, Force Works - Mike)
He immediately slapped his hand on a nearby streetlight. Kinetic energy flowed through and over his entire body, and all Robbie had to do was take a tiny leap, bouncing once on the pavement, and he was hurtling through the air towards the sound. His friends were left behind, holding his comic books. He'd meet up with them later, and hopefully hook up with a cute bridesmaid who was a sucker for gangly blondes.
As he rounded the corner and the scene came into view, Robbie let the kinetic energy flowing around his sneakers dissipate enough for him to come to a stop. A trick he'd learned in his days since the New Warriors had last disbanded and Force Works had formed.*
* (Not M2K's New Warriors. Marvel's New Warriors - Mike)
A car was on fire. And a man - it had sounded like a woman, but it wasn't - with his hair on fire was screaming up into the face of a raging behemoth. The juggernaut lifted his fist over his head, and brought it down on top of the screaming man. And the man stopped screaming as his entire body was reduced to burning flesh and smoldering ash.
Robbie Baldwin, the young man known as Speedball, gulped audibly. "I think I'm gonna need some back-up."
Speedball let the energy flow over his feet again. He took a larger leap this time, and when he hit the pavement, he literally flew at his intended target. Robbie focused, and the kinetic energy formed a thick knot of bubbly force in front of his outstretched fists. The big reject from a Godzilla flick was looking away. With luck, he'd be able to coldcock the freak from behind. End the fight before anybody else ended up as paste on the monster's fist.
Speedball tensed as the giant began to turn in his direction, away from its brutal handiwork. He got a good look at the face of the thing right before he slammed into it. "You are one ugly mother-"
Speedball connected, and the head of the creature rocked back. He absorbed the energy as it rebounded in waves off the monster's face - another trick he'd learned during his off time - and settled to a stop some twenty feet away.
The creature was already getting to its feet.
"So much for that idea," Speedball muttered as the creature roared in anger. Energy was pouring out of the monster's eyes, bleeding off of its skin. Speedball increased the pace of the kinetic bubbles swirling around him. Whether it was harmful or not, he wasn't taking any chances with the foreign energies beating at the air around him.
The creature began to stalk towards him.
"Okay, look. I know it was kinda rude of me, slamming into you like that and all," Speedball said as he tensed himself for another leap. "But I'm just not that good at this whole bouncing shtick. Really. All I wanted to do was bound on over and say 'hello'. This is really just a big misunderstanding."
The creature wasn't listening. It raised a fist, the same one it had crushed the civilian with moments before - Robbie could still see remnants of the guy stuck to the knuckles of the monster - and brought it down in a shallow arc. Speedball juked to the side, but the creature was faster than it looked. It turned the descent of its fist into a sweeping motion that caught Robbie off-guard. The force of the blow was astounding. Speedball was sent hurtling towards a building on the other side of the street.
And he returned with just as much force.
Speedball slammed into the side of the creature and it grunted, although Robbie was sure it was a grunt of surprise more than pain. And by the time it had collected itself enough to swing at Robbie again, he was gone, rebounding off another building and careening back with even more force than he had before.
The creature had no chance. It swatted at Speedball ineffectually as Robbie slammed into it. The collision sent Speedball flying again, this time bounding off a 24-hour Pharmacy and hurtling back. He rolled his eyes. This was just too easy. He'd have this guy taken care of in no time fla-
Robbie's mouth gaped open as the energy surrounding the creature flared brilliantly and it plunged its hands into the street it was standing upon. A crater formed, and Speedball caught a glimpse of thick, gray piping, then the energy flared again, the pipes ruptured, and the air turned to fire.
"Freshen your drink, handsome?" Hercules peered up through a cloudy haze at the bartender with the open bottle of lager tilted towards him. She was stunning, a brilliant shock of red hair framing a face of silken skin as milky-white as the full moon. Her bosom was full, her lips lush, and she ran her slim, pink tongue over them sensuously as Hercules reached for the offered drink. But he found that it was her eyes that captured him most of all. Emerald green, vibrant and mysterious.
"Aye, fair maid," Hercules said, his reddened face a puzzled, groggy mess, his hair disheveled and careworn, his eyes stippled with moisture, "but pray tell, what hath just occurred? I felt something of a tremble throughout this fine tavern. And a roaring such as that of the mad dog Cerebus."
The woman smiled as she handed Hercules his drink and her emerald eyes shifted to the picture window of the bar & grill. People were rushing to the glass behind the Olympian, peering out to the street beyond and the thick layer of smoke beginning to rise toward the horizon. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that Hercules. I wouldn't worry about that one little bit."
"Herc!" came a voice from behind the hero, and Hercules spun around on the leather-cushioned barstool, nearly losing his balance. The room continued to spin violently around him.
"Who goes there!" Hercules shouted, and Dane winced. His friend was in a bad way, and from the sound and intensity of that second explosion, they were needed elsewhere.
"Herc, get a hold of yourself. We have to-"
Dane Whitman's words stopped short as his eyes fell on the redhead with the killer eyes. She turned from the two of them and slipped through the door leading to the stockroom. He was certain he hadn't seen her when they came in - he would have definitely noticed her - and he was even more certain she hadn't been behind the bar when Dane zipped to the restroom. It was as if she had appeared from nowhere, and with the state Hercules was currently in - he had been drunk before, but never this sloshed - Dane had a feeling that was a bad omen.
Hercules was looking a lot like the Hercules that had been drugged by the Masters of Evil during their siege on Avenger's Mansion.* And Dane was suddenly very afraid for his friend.
* ( Available in the Marvel Comics classic, Avengers: Under Siege TPB - Mike)
"Herc… buddy…" Dane said as he rushed to the Olympian and struggled to keep him upright. "That woman. Was she--?"
"Fair as the golden locks of Hera, indeed, Dane Whitman," Hercules said. "Thou art a most seasoned observer of women."
And then Hercules fell backwards, his head, shoulders and back colliding roughly with the weathered pine of the bar. Dane stooped down and shook his friend by the shoulders gruffly.
"Ah, crap, Herc. Herc, wake up!"
"That lady put some kind of spell on him, sir," a voice said from behind him, and Dane turned to face the man who had spoken. A smallish, elderly black man with a thick, stark-white mustache and tired eyes stood there. "I could look after him, if you'd like. Think you might be better help to those poor folks caught in that mess down the block."
Dane nodded curtly. "Think you might be right about that, Mr.…?"
"Jasper's my name, sir. Horace Jasper. I saw that green-eyed devil toying with your friend from across the room while I was having a nip of my brandy. Appeared from out of thin air, that one did. That's when I figured you and your friend could use my help."
"I appreciate it, Horace. His name is Hercules. Take good care of him," Dane said as he quickly squeezed the hand of the old man and then began to dash for the door. He looked back over his shoulder. "Because he's not going to be a happy camper when he wakes up."
Speedball struggled to pull himself out of the smallish crater he'd formed in the side of one of the many buildings lining the ruined street. The explosion had been tremendous, and the force of the shockwave had made it impossible for him to rebound back towards the Shrek-looking dude wrecking the city. His butt had been roughly planted in the concrete wall and his legs had folded up under him. He kicked them fruitlessly in an effort to dislodge himself. But it was no use. He was so stuck.
"Need a hand?"
Speedball glanced up - as well as he could - and his mouth fell open for the second time in as many minutes. There, hovering overhead with an air of confidence that made Nova look like a bed-wetter in comparison, was the Avenger… Wonder Man.
"Uh, sure," Robbie said as he struggled to extend his hand. Wonder Man descended and took hold, pulling as gently as possible, and Speedball popped out of the man-sized hole he'd formed with his butt.
"What happened here?" Wonder Man asked, gesturing towards the street as Robbie brushed himself off. Speedball took a look around and cringed. The street was in shambles. There was a flaming hole in the middle of the avenue with ebon smoke rising in plumes, every glass window stretching down the block had shattered, and people were crawling, limping and scrambling for cover as best they could.
"The Creature from the Black Lagoon tried to take my lunch money," Speedball said in as lighthearted a tone as he could muster. Wonder Man turned to face him, his expression blank.
"Right. Sorry. Big monster. Killed some guy and blew up a car. Tried to take him out. He took me out instead. Blew a gas main under the street or somethin', I don't know. That's all I got."
"Did you see which way it went?" Wonder Man asked, and Speedball had to resist the urge to laugh out loud.
"I was kinda preoccupied. What with my butt battering-ram forming a new exit door in this brick wall, Mr. Wonder Man, sir."
Wonder Man's eyes narrowed, but not by much. "Got a mouth on you kid. Reminds me of… me." He smiled, but it was a tight smile. "Hop on. We've got to find that thing before it causes any more damage."
"That's okay, Wonder bread. My manhood's already been flayed enough for one day. There's no way I'm riding bareback on an Avenger."
"Suit yourself," Wonder Man said, then reached out and grabbed Speedball by the wrist.
"What the hell are you dooooooooiiiiiinnng--!?" Speedball screeched as Wonder Man took off. Wonder Man grinned. Finding the monster wouldn't be that tough. All he had to do was follow the path of destruction to its source. And then kick its tail.
Dane Whitman didn't have to run far. Whatever had caused the explosion a few blocks away was coming right for him. He could hear the screams, the chaos, growing louder every second. He reached behind him and fingered the handle of the photonic sword tucked into the waistband of his jeans. He'd brought it with him on the private jet the LL Corporation had provided for him and Hercules. They'd both needed a bit of a break. Dane had only recently returned from a trip to medieval England, Heaven, and then Hell.* Trips that had resulted in the retrieval of his Ebony Blade.
* (See M2K's Defenders series for the details - Mike)
And then there was the subsequent power increase the blade had experienced when his old enemy, Proctor, melded all the Ebony Blades from a myriad of alternate universes into one.* He could have brought the blade along, but Dane was still unsure of himself with the enchanted sword. Spilling the ichor of Daimon Hellstrom was one thing, but if the blood of a living being was shed by the blade, the curse would activate, and Dane would be consumed by the need to satiate the bloodlust of the sword. Something he swore would never happen again.
* (And see M2K's Avengers series for those details - Mike)
Not to mention how ridiculous he would have looked with a blackened broadsword strapped to his back as he ran down a crowded street.
And then there was the Vision…
Herc had taken the news of Vizh's death hard. Hell, they all had. They'd both served on the roster with Vizh… they'd both been his friend…
Dane forced the thoughts from his mind. He needed to focus now. He wrapped his right hand around the handle of his weapon and drew it from his jeans. He'd felt a little paranoid carrying it onto the plane, but if his years as an Avenger had taught him anything, it was that you never walked into an unknown situation unprepared.
Dane paused and leaned against a building. He could hear the sounds of violence around the corner and knew whatever it was he was up against was there, reeking havoc, probably threatening countless innocent lives. Heat baked its way into the exposed flesh of his forearms and his forehead broke out in heavy droplets of perspiration. It was hot. Too hot.
Dane activated his sword and it hummed to life, a shimmering lance of light rising from the dark blue handle. He steadied himself, breathed in deeply, and-
"Dane! Stop!"
The Black Knight looked up, and smiled in relief as the ionic form of Wonder Man settled to the ground in front of him. A kid, he couldn't have been any older than twenty-one, dropped to the ground beside him and yanked his wrist away from Simon's grip. He rubbed it gingerly and scowled at the two as they shook hands.
"It's good to see you, Simon. I thought I'd heard something about you coming back to the West Coast."
Wonder Man nodded. "It's good to see you too, Dane. I had no idea you were in town at all."
"Hercules and I are both here. We-"
"Um, guys? I hate to interrupt, because this is really sweet. Really. But are we at a family reunion, or are we going to kick some monster butt!?" Speedball exclaimed. Wonder Man and the Black Knight stared at him. Speedball slapped his forehead. "Do we not recall? Giant monster. Running amok. Right around the corner. Shouldn't we be doing something!?"
"The kid's right, Dane. I found him imbedded in a brick wall about three blocks from here."
Dane looked Speedball over carefully. "You come out of that okay, kid?"
Robbie nodded briefly. "The name's Speedball, not kid, and I'm fine. And thanks so much for mentioning that last little detail, Wondy."
Wonder Man grinned. "No problem, kid." He looked to Dane. "Where's Hercules?"
Dane shook his head. "Indisposed. It's just us."
"Then let's bag us a monster," Wonder Man said as he lifted back into the air. The three heroes rounded the corner, the source of the heat immediately evident. The creature was standing in the middle of the street, his face a mask of rage. Energy was bleeding from his body at an even more frenzied pace than before.
"Oh my god," Wonder Man breathed. Robbie looked over at Dane and saw that his face had fallen into a matching look of dismay.
"What? What is it?" Speedball demanded.
Wonder Man dropped back to the ground. "I know this man. His name is Nuklo. He was an ally of the Avengers. A friend. He-"
"He's destroying the city!" Robbie exclaimed. "He's killed at least two people, and who knows how many more! Are you just going to stand there and-"
"You don't understand, Speedball," Dane Whitman said. His face was grim, staring at the irradiated behemoth. "He's dead. Nuklo is dead. He died months ago while under the mind-control of a villain called the Man-Beast. His body was found in the ruins of a military base in Nevada.* She Hulk updated the Avenger's files herself, after her time with the Thunderbolts."
* (It happened in M2K's Thunderbolts - Mike)
"It doesn't matter! We've got to take him down! We-"
A blur passed in front of Robbie's eyes and the wave of air that followed knocked him flat on his back. He got to a knee and watched as the blur zipped between the heroes and the raging behemoth known as Nuklo. It stopped, and a man who had to be pushing his sixties stood in the aftermath.
Robbie got to his feet. "Who…?"
The man was practically vibrating with rage, his face reddened, his brow drawn down over the narrowed slits of his eyes.
"My name is Robert Frank, boy. Your colleagues know me as the Whizzer. This man is my son. And if any of you dare lay a hand on him, I'll take you apart where you stand."
"Let me guess," Robbie asked somberly, "dead?"
Wonder Man nodded. "Yep."
"Figures."
…None of the combatants saw the small chrome orb hovering above them. Or the tiny lens reflecting the scene back to a pair of watchful eyes. The man behind the eyes folded his hands behind his back, and prepared to enjoy the show.
NEXT ISSUE: Whizzer… dead. Nuklo… dead. Champions… dead?
CHAMPION LOVERS
The Champions! What the heck am I doing writing the Champions? Hello, my name is Mike Exner III and I'll be your fanfiction author for the foreseeable future on this quaint little title I like to call: Champions.
This title is going to be a lot of fun. That's why I'm writing it. Why it'll be fun will become evident as the issues continue to pour from my little brain. But it wouldn't have been any fun at all if not for a few very special people, so I'd like to give them their just desserts right here and now. Firstly, to Chris Munn and Russ Anderson, who inspired this series after I read their stunning work on Avengers: West Coast here at M2K. Chris Munn also deserves kudos for allowing me to use Wonder Man and Hercules for Champions. Neither of which were available.
In fact, none of the characters you've seen in this first issue were available at all. Two were dead, and everybody else was a regular contributing character in another title. So, thanks be to Brent Lambert for allowing me to use the Black Knight, thanks be to David Ingram for allowing me to use Bouncy-Boy… er, I mean Speedball. And lastly, thanks be to David Wheatley, who is allowing me to present this inaugural issue of Champions for your reading enjoyment. This is not Avengers, Avengers: West Coast, Defenders, Force Works or even the Great Lakes Avengers, people.
…It's Champions. But trust me. I think you're gonna like it.
- Mike Exner III
09/21/2003
"Captain America was the first to walk away. I remembered him leaving the East Coast team years back after the Black Knight killed the Supreme Intelligence. Murder never really sat very well with Cap.
Nobody said a word when he packed his shield up and left. How could they?
"Hank and Jan left the next day. I talked to Jarvis, and he told me that Jan had been planning to go even before the Wakanda mission. And then when we came back, and she saw the look of utter defeat in her husband's eyes…
"Hank was broken inside. He and Vision had been close. As close as any of the Avengers. Grandfather and grandson. He needed to leave. He needed his wife to take care of him. And Jan had been looking for an excuse to take care of her husband for years, even if she wasn't saying it.
"I think Hank and Jan are what made Justice and Firestar lose their nerve. Those two young kids, with all the love for each other in the world, looking down at an older married couple hardened and blistered by years of struggle and pain. What choice did they have? They wanted to live a happy life, a life without that kind of pain. So they went back to the streets. Knocking out petty hustlers and dime-sack pushers. Leave the big baddies to the real heroes, right?
"Captain Marvel watched them all go, and then he went too. He made some excuse about being called away on a matter of 'cosmic importance'. But I could see the hurt in the kid's star-lit eyes. He'd just made the roster, and now all his teammates were abandoning the cause. He couldn't do it all on his own, and sometimes it's easier to just get while the gettin's good.
"Photon went back to her fishing boat. I'd seen it a few times before. When things got too intense for her, that was what she needed to release, to think through her problems. She felt as if she was to blame for the Vision's death. She told me she had nightmares, flashes of Pym holding the Vision's shattered brain in his hands with her hard-light energy dissipating around Hank's hunched shoulders. She blinked out of the mansion the next day. The fact that her actions had saved the lives of every other member of the team and probably millions more on top of that wasn't enough. It never is.
"In the end it was Iron Man, Hawkeye, Wanda and me. We were all that was left of the roster. And then lightning roared down from the heavens and Thor was there. Tony had gotten in contact with him somehow. We needed to deepen the roster a bit. But the big guy was furious. He raged at Tony over the death of the Vision. One of our own, fallen. But there was nothing to avenge this time. We'd been saving our own lives.
"Iron Man was usually just that. Iron. Unflappable. But something broke in him when Thor accused us. He growled something about how if Thor was such a hotshot he should just run the Avengers himself. Then he fired those bootjets of his and was gone before Thor could take a breath to reply.
"I wanted to leave too. I was ashamed of what had happened to the Avengers. But I had Wanda to consider. Something had changed in her. I tried with all of my might to love her. To recapture some of those feelings we'd had for each other. But they were gone. They'd melted away with the Vision's vibranium body and been left back in the darkened jungles of Wakanda.
"And I think she wanted to lose herself in the action. She was at Thor's side a lot in those early days when he took control of the team. I think that's where he got the idea for all those high-powered recruits he placed on the team. Clint was shell-shocked by all the new blood. The Avengers didn't operate this way, he told Thor on more than one occasion. But Thor wasn't listening to a word Clint had to say. And Wanda wasn't either. Wanda and Hawk had been close, were close, but all that was out the window and gone.
"Hawkeye left one of his patented notes stuck to the fridge with a magnet. And then he was gone too.
"I could have stayed. I was powerful enough to be part of the roster. I could hold my own with any one of the powerhouses Thor was bringing in from the outside. And it didn't seem like Wanda had any animosity towards me. She was just indifferent. And it wasn't like Thor was angry with me. I'd put up the good fight against Vizh. I guess ol' goldilocks could respect that.
"But there wouldn't have been any point to staying. Wanda and I were all that was left of the old order. I knew Sersi fairly well, and I'd talked with Crystal a few times. The others were an enigma to me. I knew Hyperion only by the shots we'd traded over the years. The Avengers was something else now. And I didn't belong.
"So I ran.
"And I've been running ever since."
Bringing out the Dead
Part Oneby Mike Exner III
"That's a hell of a story, Mr. Williams," the man sitting behind the flimsy wooden table said. He glanced at his colleagues sitting alongside him, and then his eyes shifted to the sheet of paper held in his hand. Simon Williams could see the picture of himself on the back of the leaflet. The man in the picture was smiling, confident. It was like looking at a picture of someone else.
The director cleared his throat and Simon looked up at him. "But, ah… I really don't see what it has to do with this part."
Simon Williams frowned. He'd been afraid something like this would happen. He'd never been the best of actors, the majority of his parts having come as a result of his popularity and reputation as an Avenger more than his dramatic skill. And when his agent had suggested he tap into the obvious depression and pain he was feeling to help him capture the character he was trying to portray, he'd hesitantly put together a dialogue for the director. But it hadn't felt right when he wrote it, and it hadn't felt right while he was relating it to the strangers sitting in front of him.
And now he felt guilty. Guilty and stupid. What the hell was he doing here? Why was he telling these people anything about himself, his friends, his family?
"Mr. Williams? Are you all right?"
Simon ran a hand through his thin hair and clenched his teeth tightly. "I'm fine. Just feeling a bit lightheaded. I think I need some air."
"Well, we are on a schedule, Mr. Williams. Quite a few actors out in the hallway we need to see. I'm sure you can understand the dilemma."
Simon nodded. "Yeah…" Ionic energy bubbled up into his stomach, igniting the air in his lungs, causing his entire body to tingle.
"Mr. Williams? Can you contin-" He heard the audible gasps of the director, producers and casting specialists behind their pathetic excuse for a table. Simon Williams became Wonder Man. Changing before their very eyes.
He lifted into the air, and didn't even look at the amazed faces of the people he'd come to Burbank to impress as he took off, slipping neatly through an open window and arcing towards the horizon. Within moments, he was nothing more than a dot in the sky.
"…I can understand the dilemma."
"So… I was thinking maybe you give me your number and I tear this ticket up, whad'ya say?"
Megan Ferguson sighed, and her eyes did a slow half-roll. She didn't try to hide her revulsion. She wanted the pig to see that she'd rather dunk her head in a cauldron of scalding oil than speak another word to him. But the cop pretended not to notice.
"C'mon… I'll show you a good time. I'm real friendly." The cop laid a hand gently on Megan's shoulder. She immediately shrugged it off. She'd sped through a yellow light on her way home, the traffic in West Hollywood as clear as a pane of glass for the first time she could remember, and the flashing red and blues had appeared only seconds after.
"Just give me the ticket, okay, Sipowicz? You're not my type."
The cop's jovial face twisted into an ugly scowl. "That's NYPD Blue, darling. Mistaking the LAPD for one of New York's lamest is something like an insult, you know? You're not trying to insult me, are you?"
"You're doing a fine job without my help, officer," Megan replied, and knew immediately that she'd gone too far. The cop reached behind him and produced a flip-pad. That last barb was going to cost her.
The cop smiled. It was a horrible grin. His teeth were a rotten shade of yellow. Megan shuddered, and the cop's leer grew wider. "Let me see here. Running a light. Speeding. Failure to cooperate with an officer of the law. Well…" the cop paused as he glanced at Megan's ID, "…Megan, is it? Seems as though you'll be paying a pretty hefty fine. Sure you don't want to reconsider that offer for dinner?"
"I'd rather puke razorblades, you sick-" But Megan never finished her sentence. One moment officer Timothy Daniels was talking with the pretty young thing, and the next, her car was ablaze, and her features were roasting, melting, before his eyes. Timothy screamed. And then he realized his hair was on fire. He reached up and slapped himself on top of the head in an effort to put out the blaze, and then a shadow passed over him.
Timothy looked up. A man as large as a house stood over him. His body was ablaze, his eyes as white as elephant tusks, completely devoid of any pupils. Timothy screamed again, his tongue and teeth roasting, and then the giant brought his fist down, and Timothy screamed no more.
A glass mug slammed onto the hardtop of the Sidewinder Bar and Grill. "Thou art an interesting man, friend Dane," Hercules intoned drunkenly. He ogled a waitress as she strode past.
"And you, Herc," Dane Whitman replied with a wry grin, "are drunk."
"Inebriated?" Hercules bellowed, causing Dane to glance sheepishly around at the other patrons of the grill. "Surely thou dost jest, sir knight. The Prince of Power hath ne'er succumbed to the ministrations of even the most hearty of ales."
Dane laughed. "Riiiiiiight. Remember last Christmas? Wasn't that you in the corner with the ornaments hung on your ears, pretending to be the tree?"
Hercules' eyes opened wide in shock, then narrowed into tiny slits as he tried to focus on his friend. Dane had to resist the urge to laugh again. "Friend Dane, surely thou must be mistaken. The son of Zeus hath surely ne'er performed with such ignoble mannerisms."
"I got the pictures to prove it, buddy," Dane said, and clapped his friend on the shoulder as he slid of his barstool. "I've got to take a leak. Try not to break anything while I'm gone."
"Aye… aye," Hercules replied, his vision pleasantly glazed. "Be wary, friend Dane, that thou dost not fall in."
Dane Whitman laughed again as he angled towards the restrooms at the far end of the bar. He could already hear Hercules asking the bartender for another drink in his booming voice. The man had an insatiable appetite for alcohol once he got started. After all the problems the Avengers had encountered in the past with members of the team succumbing to alcoholism, Dane was surprised he could be so nonchalant about his own friend's drinking habits. But the body of a demi-god was famously resistant. Hercules usually burned off whatever he consumed within minutes. By the time they finished the cab ride back to the hotel, Herc would be fine.
Dane pushed the door to the lavatory open and settled in front of one of the urinals. His thoughts danced around in his head as he regarded the bathroom tiling in front of him.
He wasn't exactly sure why he was here instead of with his teammates… with the Avengers.* But someone had gone to a lot of trouble to get him here. Messages left at the mansion, at his castle estate. Plane tickets sent through the mail. All from a corporation Dane had never heard of. LL Incorporated.
* (The Black Knight is currently a member of M2K's mighty Avengers - Mike)
He'd arranged for a leave of absence from the Avengers, and Hercules had come along on one of his patented whims. LL Incorporated had set them up in a lavish hotel suite, and a limo had arrived the following morning to deliver Dane to the front doors of the massive building that housed their headquarters. He had been escorted through the complex, catching glimpses of high-tech labs and state of the art manufacturing facilities. It was almost as if they were showing Dane everything he wanted to see in order to lull him into signing on the dotted line. But no contract was offered. He hadn't even been offered a job, really. He'd come away impressed with LL Incorporated, but nothing more.
And he hadn't even had the chance to meet the man behind the masterpiece. And although that was a little strange, his host, a blonde bombshell named Vicki, had assured him that the President of the corporation was quite anxious to meet him, and so Dane had let it slide. The place had been bustling with activity. It wasn't all that far-fetched to believe the guy had more pressing matters to attend to. But he wasn't sure what to think of it all. Not one little bit.
Dane was torn from his thoughts as a tremor shook the ground. He had to struggle to maintain his balance as the air around him swelled with the muffled sound of an explosion.
"What in the hell was that?" Dane asked the walls as he zipped up hastily. He sprinted towards the door. Last call at the Sidewinder was going to be sooner than expected.
Robert "Robbie" Baldwin heard the explosion, and then the woman's scream from around the corner as he was stepping out of a local comic shop. His friends were with him. A former high school buddy of his was getting married and he'd requested some time away from Force Works to be the best man.* The bachelor party had been the night before, the wedding was in a few short hours. As usual, Robbie had convinced everybody the time would be best spent goofing around. It was so strange, his friend getting married. He couldn't picture himself taking the long walk down that aisle, and before his friend had called, he would have said the same of any of his buddies. But he didn't have time to think about it now.
* (Speedball is a core member of M2K's super-team, Force Works - Mike)
He immediately slapped his hand on a nearby streetlight. Kinetic energy flowed through and over his entire body, and all Robbie had to do was take a tiny leap, bouncing once on the pavement, and he was hurtling through the air towards the sound. His friends were left behind, holding his comic books. He'd meet up with them later, and hopefully hook up with a cute bridesmaid who was a sucker for gangly blondes.
As he rounded the corner and the scene came into view, Robbie let the kinetic energy flowing around his sneakers dissipate enough for him to come to a stop. A trick he'd learned in his days since the New Warriors had last disbanded and Force Works had formed.*
* (Not M2K's New Warriors. Marvel's New Warriors - Mike)
A car was on fire. And a man - it had sounded like a woman, but it wasn't - with his hair on fire was screaming up into the face of a raging behemoth. The juggernaut lifted his fist over his head, and brought it down on top of the screaming man. And the man stopped screaming as his entire body was reduced to burning flesh and smoldering ash.
Robbie Baldwin, the young man known as Speedball, gulped audibly. "I think I'm gonna need some back-up."
Speedball let the energy flow over his feet again. He took a larger leap this time, and when he hit the pavement, he literally flew at his intended target. Robbie focused, and the kinetic energy formed a thick knot of bubbly force in front of his outstretched fists. The big reject from a Godzilla flick was looking away. With luck, he'd be able to coldcock the freak from behind. End the fight before anybody else ended up as paste on the monster's fist.
Speedball tensed as the giant began to turn in his direction, away from its brutal handiwork. He got a good look at the face of the thing right before he slammed into it. "You are one ugly mother-"
Speedball connected, and the head of the creature rocked back. He absorbed the energy as it rebounded in waves off the monster's face - another trick he'd learned during his off time - and settled to a stop some twenty feet away.
The creature was already getting to its feet.
"So much for that idea," Speedball muttered as the creature roared in anger. Energy was pouring out of the monster's eyes, bleeding off of its skin. Speedball increased the pace of the kinetic bubbles swirling around him. Whether it was harmful or not, he wasn't taking any chances with the foreign energies beating at the air around him.
The creature began to stalk towards him.
"Okay, look. I know it was kinda rude of me, slamming into you like that and all," Speedball said as he tensed himself for another leap. "But I'm just not that good at this whole bouncing shtick. Really. All I wanted to do was bound on over and say 'hello'. This is really just a big misunderstanding."
The creature wasn't listening. It raised a fist, the same one it had crushed the civilian with moments before - Robbie could still see remnants of the guy stuck to the knuckles of the monster - and brought it down in a shallow arc. Speedball juked to the side, but the creature was faster than it looked. It turned the descent of its fist into a sweeping motion that caught Robbie off-guard. The force of the blow was astounding. Speedball was sent hurtling towards a building on the other side of the street.
And he returned with just as much force.
Speedball slammed into the side of the creature and it grunted, although Robbie was sure it was a grunt of surprise more than pain. And by the time it had collected itself enough to swing at Robbie again, he was gone, rebounding off another building and careening back with even more force than he had before.
The creature had no chance. It swatted at Speedball ineffectually as Robbie slammed into it. The collision sent Speedball flying again, this time bounding off a 24-hour Pharmacy and hurtling back. He rolled his eyes. This was just too easy. He'd have this guy taken care of in no time fla-
Robbie's mouth gaped open as the energy surrounding the creature flared brilliantly and it plunged its hands into the street it was standing upon. A crater formed, and Speedball caught a glimpse of thick, gray piping, then the energy flared again, the pipes ruptured, and the air turned to fire.
"Freshen your drink, handsome?" Hercules peered up through a cloudy haze at the bartender with the open bottle of lager tilted towards him. She was stunning, a brilliant shock of red hair framing a face of silken skin as milky-white as the full moon. Her bosom was full, her lips lush, and she ran her slim, pink tongue over them sensuously as Hercules reached for the offered drink. But he found that it was her eyes that captured him most of all. Emerald green, vibrant and mysterious.
"Aye, fair maid," Hercules said, his reddened face a puzzled, groggy mess, his hair disheveled and careworn, his eyes stippled with moisture, "but pray tell, what hath just occurred? I felt something of a tremble throughout this fine tavern. And a roaring such as that of the mad dog Cerebus."
The woman smiled as she handed Hercules his drink and her emerald eyes shifted to the picture window of the bar & grill. People were rushing to the glass behind the Olympian, peering out to the street beyond and the thick layer of smoke beginning to rise toward the horizon. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that Hercules. I wouldn't worry about that one little bit."
"Herc!" came a voice from behind the hero, and Hercules spun around on the leather-cushioned barstool, nearly losing his balance. The room continued to spin violently around him.
"Who goes there!" Hercules shouted, and Dane winced. His friend was in a bad way, and from the sound and intensity of that second explosion, they were needed elsewhere.
"Herc, get a hold of yourself. We have to-"
Dane Whitman's words stopped short as his eyes fell on the redhead with the killer eyes. She turned from the two of them and slipped through the door leading to the stockroom. He was certain he hadn't seen her when they came in - he would have definitely noticed her - and he was even more certain she hadn't been behind the bar when Dane zipped to the restroom. It was as if she had appeared from nowhere, and with the state Hercules was currently in - he had been drunk before, but never this sloshed - Dane had a feeling that was a bad omen.
Hercules was looking a lot like the Hercules that had been drugged by the Masters of Evil during their siege on Avenger's Mansion.* And Dane was suddenly very afraid for his friend.
* ( Available in the Marvel Comics classic, Avengers: Under Siege TPB - Mike)
"Herc… buddy…" Dane said as he rushed to the Olympian and struggled to keep him upright. "That woman. Was she--?"
"Fair as the golden locks of Hera, indeed, Dane Whitman," Hercules said. "Thou art a most seasoned observer of women."
And then Hercules fell backwards, his head, shoulders and back colliding roughly with the weathered pine of the bar. Dane stooped down and shook his friend by the shoulders gruffly.
"Ah, crap, Herc. Herc, wake up!"
"That lady put some kind of spell on him, sir," a voice said from behind him, and Dane turned to face the man who had spoken. A smallish, elderly black man with a thick, stark-white mustache and tired eyes stood there. "I could look after him, if you'd like. Think you might be better help to those poor folks caught in that mess down the block."
Dane nodded curtly. "Think you might be right about that, Mr.…?"
"Jasper's my name, sir. Horace Jasper. I saw that green-eyed devil toying with your friend from across the room while I was having a nip of my brandy. Appeared from out of thin air, that one did. That's when I figured you and your friend could use my help."
"I appreciate it, Horace. His name is Hercules. Take good care of him," Dane said as he quickly squeezed the hand of the old man and then began to dash for the door. He looked back over his shoulder. "Because he's not going to be a happy camper when he wakes up."
Speedball struggled to pull himself out of the smallish crater he'd formed in the side of one of the many buildings lining the ruined street. The explosion had been tremendous, and the force of the shockwave had made it impossible for him to rebound back towards the Shrek-looking dude wrecking the city. His butt had been roughly planted in the concrete wall and his legs had folded up under him. He kicked them fruitlessly in an effort to dislodge himself. But it was no use. He was so stuck.
"Need a hand?"
Speedball glanced up - as well as he could - and his mouth fell open for the second time in as many minutes. There, hovering overhead with an air of confidence that made Nova look like a bed-wetter in comparison, was the Avenger… Wonder Man.
"Uh, sure," Robbie said as he struggled to extend his hand. Wonder Man descended and took hold, pulling as gently as possible, and Speedball popped out of the man-sized hole he'd formed with his butt.
"What happened here?" Wonder Man asked, gesturing towards the street as Robbie brushed himself off. Speedball took a look around and cringed. The street was in shambles. There was a flaming hole in the middle of the avenue with ebon smoke rising in plumes, every glass window stretching down the block had shattered, and people were crawling, limping and scrambling for cover as best they could.
"The Creature from the Black Lagoon tried to take my lunch money," Speedball said in as lighthearted a tone as he could muster. Wonder Man turned to face him, his expression blank.
"Right. Sorry. Big monster. Killed some guy and blew up a car. Tried to take him out. He took me out instead. Blew a gas main under the street or somethin', I don't know. That's all I got."
"Did you see which way it went?" Wonder Man asked, and Speedball had to resist the urge to laugh out loud.
"I was kinda preoccupied. What with my butt battering-ram forming a new exit door in this brick wall, Mr. Wonder Man, sir."
Wonder Man's eyes narrowed, but not by much. "Got a mouth on you kid. Reminds me of… me." He smiled, but it was a tight smile. "Hop on. We've got to find that thing before it causes any more damage."
"That's okay, Wonder bread. My manhood's already been flayed enough for one day. There's no way I'm riding bareback on an Avenger."
"Suit yourself," Wonder Man said, then reached out and grabbed Speedball by the wrist.
"What the hell are you dooooooooiiiiiinnng--!?" Speedball screeched as Wonder Man took off. Wonder Man grinned. Finding the monster wouldn't be that tough. All he had to do was follow the path of destruction to its source. And then kick its tail.
Dane Whitman didn't have to run far. Whatever had caused the explosion a few blocks away was coming right for him. He could hear the screams, the chaos, growing louder every second. He reached behind him and fingered the handle of the photonic sword tucked into the waistband of his jeans. He'd brought it with him on the private jet the LL Corporation had provided for him and Hercules. They'd both needed a bit of a break. Dane had only recently returned from a trip to medieval England, Heaven, and then Hell.* Trips that had resulted in the retrieval of his Ebony Blade.
* (See M2K's Defenders series for the details - Mike)
And then there was the subsequent power increase the blade had experienced when his old enemy, Proctor, melded all the Ebony Blades from a myriad of alternate universes into one.* He could have brought the blade along, but Dane was still unsure of himself with the enchanted sword. Spilling the ichor of Daimon Hellstrom was one thing, but if the blood of a living being was shed by the blade, the curse would activate, and Dane would be consumed by the need to satiate the bloodlust of the sword. Something he swore would never happen again.
* (And see M2K's Avengers series for those details - Mike)
Not to mention how ridiculous he would have looked with a blackened broadsword strapped to his back as he ran down a crowded street.
And then there was the Vision…
Herc had taken the news of Vizh's death hard. Hell, they all had. They'd both served on the roster with Vizh… they'd both been his friend…
Dane forced the thoughts from his mind. He needed to focus now. He wrapped his right hand around the handle of his weapon and drew it from his jeans. He'd felt a little paranoid carrying it onto the plane, but if his years as an Avenger had taught him anything, it was that you never walked into an unknown situation unprepared.
Dane paused and leaned against a building. He could hear the sounds of violence around the corner and knew whatever it was he was up against was there, reeking havoc, probably threatening countless innocent lives. Heat baked its way into the exposed flesh of his forearms and his forehead broke out in heavy droplets of perspiration. It was hot. Too hot.
Dane activated his sword and it hummed to life, a shimmering lance of light rising from the dark blue handle. He steadied himself, breathed in deeply, and-
"Dane! Stop!"
The Black Knight looked up, and smiled in relief as the ionic form of Wonder Man settled to the ground in front of him. A kid, he couldn't have been any older than twenty-one, dropped to the ground beside him and yanked his wrist away from Simon's grip. He rubbed it gingerly and scowled at the two as they shook hands.
"It's good to see you, Simon. I thought I'd heard something about you coming back to the West Coast."
Wonder Man nodded. "It's good to see you too, Dane. I had no idea you were in town at all."
"Hercules and I are both here. We-"
"Um, guys? I hate to interrupt, because this is really sweet. Really. But are we at a family reunion, or are we going to kick some monster butt!?" Speedball exclaimed. Wonder Man and the Black Knight stared at him. Speedball slapped his forehead. "Do we not recall? Giant monster. Running amok. Right around the corner. Shouldn't we be doing something!?"
"The kid's right, Dane. I found him imbedded in a brick wall about three blocks from here."
Dane looked Speedball over carefully. "You come out of that okay, kid?"
Robbie nodded briefly. "The name's Speedball, not kid, and I'm fine. And thanks so much for mentioning that last little detail, Wondy."
Wonder Man grinned. "No problem, kid." He looked to Dane. "Where's Hercules?"
Dane shook his head. "Indisposed. It's just us."
"Then let's bag us a monster," Wonder Man said as he lifted back into the air. The three heroes rounded the corner, the source of the heat immediately evident. The creature was standing in the middle of the street, his face a mask of rage. Energy was bleeding from his body at an even more frenzied pace than before.
"Oh my god," Wonder Man breathed. Robbie looked over at Dane and saw that his face had fallen into a matching look of dismay.
"What? What is it?" Speedball demanded.
Wonder Man dropped back to the ground. "I know this man. His name is Nuklo. He was an ally of the Avengers. A friend. He-"
"He's destroying the city!" Robbie exclaimed. "He's killed at least two people, and who knows how many more! Are you just going to stand there and-"
"You don't understand, Speedball," Dane Whitman said. His face was grim, staring at the irradiated behemoth. "He's dead. Nuklo is dead. He died months ago while under the mind-control of a villain called the Man-Beast. His body was found in the ruins of a military base in Nevada.* She Hulk updated the Avenger's files herself, after her time with the Thunderbolts."
* (It happened in M2K's Thunderbolts - Mike)
"It doesn't matter! We've got to take him down! We-"
A blur passed in front of Robbie's eyes and the wave of air that followed knocked him flat on his back. He got to a knee and watched as the blur zipped between the heroes and the raging behemoth known as Nuklo. It stopped, and a man who had to be pushing his sixties stood in the aftermath.
Robbie got to his feet. "Who…?"
The man was practically vibrating with rage, his face reddened, his brow drawn down over the narrowed slits of his eyes.
"My name is Robert Frank, boy. Your colleagues know me as the Whizzer. This man is my son. And if any of you dare lay a hand on him, I'll take you apart where you stand."
"Let me guess," Robbie asked somberly, "dead?"
Wonder Man nodded. "Yep."
"Figures."
…None of the combatants saw the small chrome orb hovering above them. Or the tiny lens reflecting the scene back to a pair of watchful eyes. The man behind the eyes folded his hands behind his back, and prepared to enjoy the show.
NEXT ISSUE: Whizzer… dead. Nuklo… dead. Champions… dead?
CHAMPION LOVERS
The Champions! What the heck am I doing writing the Champions? Hello, my name is Mike Exner III and I'll be your fanfiction author for the foreseeable future on this quaint little title I like to call: Champions.
This title is going to be a lot of fun. That's why I'm writing it. Why it'll be fun will become evident as the issues continue to pour from my little brain. But it wouldn't have been any fun at all if not for a few very special people, so I'd like to give them their just desserts right here and now. Firstly, to Chris Munn and Russ Anderson, who inspired this series after I read their stunning work on Avengers: West Coast here at M2K. Chris Munn also deserves kudos for allowing me to use Wonder Man and Hercules for Champions. Neither of which were available.
In fact, none of the characters you've seen in this first issue were available at all. Two were dead, and everybody else was a regular contributing character in another title. So, thanks be to Brent Lambert for allowing me to use the Black Knight, thanks be to David Ingram for allowing me to use Bouncy-Boy… er, I mean Speedball. And lastly, thanks be to David Wheatley, who is allowing me to present this inaugural issue of Champions for your reading enjoyment. This is not Avengers, Avengers: West Coast, Defenders, Force Works or even the Great Lakes Avengers, people.
…It's Champions. But trust me. I think you're gonna like it.
- Mike Exner III
09/21/2003