"This footage is remarkable," the man said, his voice one of awe. He was standing with his upturned face angled towards the myriad of television screens before him. Each one streaming a differing set of images. Alternate views of the confrontation unfolding between three heroes and the two super-powered antagonists known as Nuklo and the Whizzer. "Just remarkable."
"The Eye in the Sky camera is performing adequately, I take it?" said a man at his side. The first man barely glanced at him.
"More than adequately, my friend. Perfectly is the word. Just look at it. You're a genius."
The second man nodded, his face mirroring his pride. "I believe in what you're trying to do here. It's why I agreed to help you."
"And you made the right decision, Mr. Foster," the man said as he turned away from the television screens and paced back to his immense dark oak desk. "The preliminary ratings for the footage of the Scarlet Spider television program in Baltimore tested through the roof, with only nominal complaints from the female and elderly demographic concerned with his menacing appearance."
The man fell gingerly into his plush leather chair and swiveled it around so he could peer at the screens again. "But this endeavor… this will revolutionize television entertainment forever. All we had to do was wait for the prime opportunity to deliver it to the world."
Bill Foster walked up to the desk and placed his hands on top of it. He leaned towards the man leering behind it. "You're talking as if these heroes and villains will be around forever. We're in Los Angeles. Eventually those heroes will return home. This isn't New York with a superhero and villain on every corner."
"I realize that, Mr. Foster," the man said, the smile never faltering from his lips.
"And we can't exactly film the Avengers, New Warriors or Spider-Man at random. We're going to have to get permission from them. Hell, as unlikely as it sounds, they might even acquire representation we'll have to deal with."
The man's eyes turned towards William Emanuel Foster. They were as steady as the tide. "Indeed. And that's why we're not going to New York at all. We're going to stay right here."
Bill Foster's voice went flat. "Stay here?"
"That's right, Bill. May I call you Bill?" the man asked with a grin. "You see, Bill. The idea is not to chase around after the heroes we need like a dog chasing its tail. No. If we do that, we'll be out of business before we have a chance to turn a profit. The Scarlet Spider experiment struggled because no cameraman on Earth is fast enough to keep up with the masked crusader."
"That's why you had me aid your people in designing the Eye," Foster said.
"Yes, but that's only part of the answer."
"So what's the rest of the answer? We can't hire the heroes."
The man looked back to the screens blinking across the room. "Why not?"
"Well… because they're heroes. They're not for sale."
The man shrugged. "You were a hero, Mr. Foster. I acquired your services."
Foster's eyes narrowed. "You didn't buy me. The money's nice, I'm not going to pretend it isn't, but your organization is doing a good thing for the superhero community. There's a lot of mistrust out there. The general public doesn't even trust heroes anymore. This is a way to make the people see that heroes make a positive impact. You told me you were using the money this project earns to further that goal. And that you were also planning to donate a large amount of the excess profits to charity. If you were lying-"
"There was no deception, Mr. Foster. And I didn't mean to imply I had bought you. I was merely pointing out the correlation between a man such as yourself and men like…" the man behind the desk gestured towards the television screens, "…them."
The man looked back at Foster. "And I think these particular heroes will do quite well. Just look at them. Wonder Man. A hero who made a living for years behind the camera, satisfying the fickle masses. Dane Whitman. Athletic, attractive, he's a bloody knight in shining armor! Even Speedball makes sense. Every television program needs their comic relief. They're perfect."
"You're forming a team?" Bill Foster asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.
"That's right, Bill,"
Eric Williams, the man once known as the Grim Reaper paused. He didn't notice - or perhaps ignored - the mistrustful tone in Foster's voice. "I introduce you to LL Incorporated's newest and brightest heroes… her Champions."
Bringing out the Dead
Part Twoby Mike Exner III
"Robert, I don't understand. How can you be alive? Why are you doing this?" Dane Whitman said as he tightened his grip on the handle of his photonic sword. Robert Frank, the man known as the Whizzer, whirled around him, keeping the knight off balance, occasionally peppering Dane with forceful blows. But it couldn't be the real Whizzer. That man had died years ago in battle with the same villain who had been responsible for the deaths of his wife and infant child.
Another punch hurtled from the blurred tornado of movement and caught him in his abdomen. The pain was intense. Dane grit his teeth and swung his sword with all his might. The Whizzer danced away effortlessly. The Black Knight was bleeding from a gash in his lower lip. He could feel his eye swelling. A sick heat was blaring at him from the middle of his chest.
…He wished he had his helmet. His armor. This was getting him nowhere.
He let his eyes pass over the steadily growing form of Nuklo as Wonder Man and the youthful hero Speedball confronted him.
Nuklo had been a menace to the Avengers before, but he'd been driven insane with power then. The Avengers had given him a second lease on life, offering him a job as a landscaper, tending the gardens surrounding the mansion. But he was supposed to be dead too. And now it seemed as if his insanity had returned full-force along with his life. He was spasming uncontrollably, his size-altering abilities out of control, hard-radiation seeping from his body and lashing out in all directions. Battering the street, the buildings, innocent people, and the heroes struggling to halt his rampage.
And Robert Frank, recently returned from the dead, and no worse for wear for the trip, was trying his hardest to cripple their efforts to stop it. And it was more than a father trying to protect his son; it was almost as if the Whizzer was trying to buy Nuklo time to accomplish something. Dane was sure of it. But to do what?
The Whizzer certainly wasn't saying. And Dane didn't have time to ponder it any longer as the blur approached, and Robert Frank lit into him again.
Wonder Man braced himself as Nuklo - or whoever the giant now pushing twenty-five feet really was - pummeled him with a barrage of hard-radiation. His ionic physiology would shield him from the majority of the damage Nuklo could do to a normal person, but he was worried about Speedball. The kid had assured him that his kinetic forcefield would deflect anything thrown at it, but Simon still wanted to get this fight over and done with as soon as possible… for all their sakes.
The only problem was that Nuklo wasn't cooperating. No matter how many times Wonder Man battered him on the side of the head with his enhanced strength, Nuklo shrugged it off as if his ionic enemy was nothing more than a pesky housefly.
And Speedball wasn't having any more luck than Simon was. He was bouncing around frantically, gaining more and more momentum with each subsequent collision against Nuklo's irradiated hide. But as Nuklo grew in size, his resistance and strength grew right along with it. They were losing this fight.
Nuklo bellowed incoherently as Speedball collided with one of his knees, and fired a tremendous surge of radiation in the direction of the bouncing hero. The kid tried to shift his body, avoid the wave of energy by angling away from it, but it came too fast. He was submerged in the hard-radiation, and crashed end-over-end like a piece of tumbleweed.
Wonder Man darted for the street as the energy began to dissipate. "Speedball!" The silhouette of the kid was just visible in the murky smoke rising off the street. He was lying in a shallow trench of blacktop that had melted around his form. He wasn't moving.
Wonder Man landed beside the young hero and waved his hands at the foul vapors lingering in the air. The features of Speedball came into view, and Wonder Man could still see the strange bubbly energy bouncing gently over his stilled form.
"Kid, you all right?" Wonder Man whispered as he dropped a hand to the kid's neck. He'd intended to press two fingers to his throat, hoping to find a pulse, but the kinetic energy gave only slightly under the pressure of his hand. Wonder Man pushed a little harder, and the resistance increased.
Speedball opened his eyes, a smile playing around the corners of his lips. "Ma…? Do I really hafta go ta school today?"
Wonder Man breathed a sigh of relief. "You're an idiot, you know that?"
"Yeah, I know. But I couldn't resist. You looked so concerned," Speedball said. His eyes looked past Wonder Man. "Hey, what happened to him?"
Wonder Man turned. Nuklo had gotten noticeably smaller. The energy was still pouring from him uncontrollably, but it almost seemed as if-
"He got smaller when he blasted me. That radiation must be building up in him something serious. And he's not paying attention to us anymore," Speedball finished Simon's thought.
Wonder Man looked back at him. There was something in the kid's voice. "What are you thinking, Speedy? Spit it out."
Robbie tried a sheepish grin, he wasn't used to contributing his opinions on battle strategy. Force Works hardly needed his tactical expertise. "I think he's storing the energy. But I think it's more than he can handle all at once. He has to let it out a little every once in a while. Otherwise, it might kill him."
Wonder Man frowned. "The question is: What's he storing it for? Is he going explode, or what?"
"I don't know," Speedball said as he got to his feet. "But I think maybe we should try and evacuate these people. Because whatever it is, I'm betting it's something heinous as hell."
Wonder Man raised his eyebrows. "Heinous?"
"Oh, shut up."
From far above the heads of the heroes battling down below, a woman stood. She peered down at the chaos being wrought on the streets of Los Angeles, and she smiled. It was a stunning smile, framed by long tresses of vibrant red hair. Her emerald eyes shifted perspective, gazing skyward to the smallish drone hovering above the fray. Her smile widened, then darkened, her ivory teeth moldering to a deep black, her smooth, pale skin wrinkling and reddening. Her clothes caught fire and fell away, revealing the demonic features beneath.
Mephisto turned his glowering yellow eyes back to the street. And then the scent of brimstone filled the air as he began to laugh.
Hercules sat up, his head pounding like the thunder that followed the lightning strike of mighty Zeus himself. An elderly gentleman was peering down at him, and for a moment, Hercules was unsure of where he was. But then he remembered, and he scanned the patrons of the Sidewinder Bar & Grill for his friend and colleague, Dane Whitman.
"He's not here, sir," the elderly fellow said, and then reached a gnarled hand out to help the demi-god to his feet.
Hercules ignored the hand, gathering his legs beneath him and using the bar for support. "And who dost thou speak of, old man?" Hercules grumbled. His head was pounding fiercely, a liquid throbbing beneath his eyelids.
"That young fella who was with you. Believe he's called the Black Knight in some circles," the old man replied, and Hercules raised his eyes to look at him for the first time. He was wearing a rumpled black suit with a black tie. A black cap with an elongated brim was tucked in the crook of one spindly arm. The man's face was weathered and haggard. He had lived a long life, a life of hardship, but Hercules was immortal, and could tell that the man was not quite as old as he appeared.
"And how wouldst thou know of my compatriot's name?"
"He asked that I look after you, sir. He took off like the wind after that explosion went off downtown. There's been quite a few more since you conked out," the old man paused, his eyes grew wistful. "I certainly hope he's all right, that one."
"Perhaps the son of Zeus should strive to change thy hopes to certainty," Hercules said, and he would have stalked to the door, journeyed through the streets of Los Angeles in search of his friend. But as soon as he took his hand from the bar, weakness overcame him, and he slumped back.
The old man placed gentle hands on his shoulders and nudged him to a seat on one of the barstools. "You need to rest, sir. You took an awful fall not all that long ago."
"Your garb is strange for this place," Hercules said. He wasn't sure why. His head was swimming roughly. He felt as though he was under the spell of some foul demoness.
"Uh… yes. Well, I'm a limo-driver… actually. I'm off duty right now. I usually change before-"
Hercules lifted a hand to silence the man. "Hold. I feel passing strange. What is thy name?"
The old man blinked. "It's… Horace, sir. Horace Jasper."
"And I am… Hercules."
"That's right, sir."
"And this establishment is known as the Sidewinder Bar & Grill. I arrived here with Dane Whitman, and partook of a multitude of ale served to me by…" Hercules' eyes opened wide as his memory cleared. "A demoness!"
Horace Jasper nodded in affirmation. "There was certainly something unseemly about that one, sir. I can tell you that."
"Hold, Horace Jasper, that I might glean more from this mystery. There be something more." Hercules turned his vision to the bartop. His eyes wouldn't focus properly, but a single sweep of his hand uncovered what he was looking for. His glass of ale.
He brought the mug around and presented it to the old man.
"Oh no, sir. I've had my fill today. Shouldn't have taken the small bit I did, matter of fact. Still have to drop my limousine off at the station, and-"
Hercules produced a thin smile. "I do not want thou to taste of this fouled brew, Horace Jasper. Merely peer to the bottom of the glass, and tell the Prince of Power what thou observes."
"Well, my eyes aren't quite what they used to be," Horace said as he took hold of the glass and pulled it closer to his eyes. "But… I do see something."
Hercules nodded grimly. "And what dost thou see, Horace Jasper?"
Horace peered over the mug, into the eyes of the demi-god. "It looks like… little leaves. Setting on the bottom."
"Aye," Hercules intoned. "It is as I predicted. This is the trapping of the most hated of mine enemies."
"Who's that, sir?"
"Hera." Hercules spat the name like the poison of a snake drawn from a grisly wound.
"Nay, Herakles," came a voice from behind, and both man and demi-god turned in surprise. Standing before them was a woman draped in green robes. A golden wreath of leaves strewn through hair nearly as vibrant as the leaves themselves. Golden bracelets adorned her wrists and ankles. "'Twas not I who laid thee low."
"Thine actions make a mockery of thy words, foul one. Hast thou come to gloat over thy victory?" Hercules struggled to stand, but he could only quiver before her, his knees too weak to support him. He felt heat rise to his cheeks. Shame at feeling so utterly helpless.
"I say again, Herakles. 'Twas not I," Hera replied as she padded softly towards them. Horace Jasper stepped in front of the woman.
"I told his friend I'd let no harm come to him, miss. I'm afraid I can't let you any closer than that."
"I mean him no harm, human," Hera said. "But thy loyalty to one who thou dost not know in the slightest is to be applauded. Were it that more humans could show such selflessness and charity as thee."
Horace Jasper suddenly found he couldn't move. Only his eyes remained unaffected, and they followed Hera as she moved gracefully past.
"Herakles, thou hath been deceived, but not by my hand. Thou knowst of the curse of poison that follows the leaves 'pon which my golden apples grow?"
"Aye, and Hercules also knowst of thy base hatred for the Prince of Power. Wouldst thou not stoop to so base a form of revenge to serve thy twisted will?"
"Thou hast judged me poorly, Herakles," Hera whispered, running her fingers along the weathered beard of the demi-god. "Verily, I hath desired thy demise from afar. Yet 'twas not I who poisoned thee. 'Twas another. One who hath stolen the leaves from mine sacred gardens, and slipped them into thy drink."
Hercules chuckled, and struggled to pull his face from Hera's touch. "And thou doth expect I shouldst believe thee, Hera? Believe the words of one who hast e'er deceived gods and mortals alike? Thou hast ne'er thought me a fool."
"Thou art most skeptical, Herakles. But nay, I didst not expect that thou wouldst believe my words," Hera said with a sneer. "Alas, mine actions shouldst be enough to prove my intentions."
Hera took hold of Hercules' face with a grip of iron. Hercules struggled to free himself, but he was too weak to resist. Hera opened her mouth, and pressed her lips fully to Hercules' own. It was a brief brush of the lips, and then Hera backed away. "Let he who stole from the garden of Hera learn from his folly. I grant thee thy chance at revenge, stepson. For the both of us."
And then there was a rustling of fabric, a shimmering light, and Hera was gone.
Horace Jasper found he could move again. He turned to Hercules, and the Prince of Power rose to his full height before him. "Sir! Are you all right?"
Hercules nodded, wiping at his lips with one massive forearm. "Verily, it appears as if my stepmother hath restored my vitality, Horace Jasper. I thank thee for thy concern."
"So you're going to follow Mr. Whitman now? Take the fight to whoever it was that poisoned you with them strange leaves?"
"Aye, Horace," Hercules replied, wrapping an arm around the man's shoulder as he moved towards the door. "But mayhap I could have thine ear and thy service for a moment more? If thou art willing, there be one last task the Prince of Power would have thee do."
"I'm growing weary of you, Whitman," the Whizzer said as he darted in and rapidly struck the Black Knight across the jaw. "It was amusing to toy with you for a while, but my boy needs his father. So it's time for you to fall. If not, you can die. The choice is yours."
The Black Knight spit a glob of blood onto the cracked pavement. His entire body was trembling from the beating he'd taken. But he was still standing, much to the quiet amazement of his opponent. "I'm not going anywhere, Whizzer. You turn away from me, and I'll stab you in the back."
Robert Frank frowned. "Very well. You leave me no choice. Nothing is going to keep my boy from accomplishing what I set out for him to do, knight. If I have to kill you to make that happen, so be it."
The Whizzer rushed forward, almost faster than Dane could register with his eyes. He didn't have a chance to raise his sword before the blows were raining down upon him. Six punches fell before he felt the sting of pain from the first. He willed himself to endure it. He knew that if he tried to swing at Robert Frank, the man would just dart away again. In his arrogance, the man hadn't tried to take Dane's weapon from him. That arrogance would probably be the only thing capable of saving Dane's life.
The hits continued to come at an ever-increasing rate. The pain was growing unbearable. Dane knew the Whizzer fully intended to beat him to pulp. A man who had once been a hero. A hero Dane himself had admired as a child. It made what Dane had to do all the harder.
During one of the previous onslaughts, Dane had been forced to the ground, steadying himself by placing his hand on the pavement. A thin sliver of glass had imbedded itself in his glove. Dane pulled it out of his skin. He gripped it between finger and thumb. He had opened the hilt of his photonic sword during the scuffle, sliding the covering off the power source. Now he thrust the strip of glass into the wiring and stiffened at the brief electrical shock that traveled through his body. But his eyes remained open, and the desired effect occurred.
The blade of photonic particles surged at the intrusion. Reaching out, elongating at the speed of light, and striking the Whizzer through the chest. He bellowed in rage and pain as the effects of the attack disrupted his neural pathways, and laid him low.
Dane Whitman fell to a knee. He held his ribs gingerly, it was a struggle to breathe, and his face felt like ground beef. He rose, and moved gingerly to the spot where the Whizzer had fallen. His sword a useless weight in his hand.
The Whizzer stared up at him, blinking rapidly. Dane could see that he was struggling to move, but to no avail. A leg or arm struck by the blade would go numb for a number of minutes. With a shot to the head or through the chest, the neural inhibitors would remain active for at least a half-hour in a normal person. But in a body with as advanced a metabolism as the Whizzer, there was no telling how long the effects would linger.
"What is h-happening?" The Whizzer whispered through clenched teeth. "I can't… can't move."
Dane stooped down and knelt before the old man. "Robert, what's going on here? You have to tell me. How is it possible that I'm looking at you right now? You're supposed to be dead."
The Whizzer's eyes finally focused on Dane. He continued to blink rapidly, but his gaze never faltered from Dane's eyes. "D-Dane Whitman? I… I was fighting you. Yes. You were t-trying to stop… my boy."
"I had to, Robert. He's killing people. Can't you see that?"
"They're dead!" Robert wailed, and Dane flinched. He winced as his ribs flared beneath his hand. They were probably cracked. Or worse. He could only hope there weren't any serious internal injuries.
"I know they're dead, Robert. Nuk… your son killed them. He's out of control. Do you know what's wrong with him? Why he keeps storing the energy?" Dane looked up, noticing for the first time that Nuklo had stopped fighting. But the threat hadn't ceased. Wonder Man and Speedball were carrying people to a safe distance as Nuklo continued to shed his energies in destructive blasts. But Dane could see he was still struggling to keep it inside. Fighting with all of his might to hold it in the pit of his stomach.
"No. You can't see, can you? They're dead. My wife and my child are dead," the Whizzer whispered, a single tear dropping from each rapidly blinking eye.
Dane grasped his hand, he hoped it would be a comfort to the man struggling to move before him. He could feel the vibrations of motion through the man's fingers. He didn't have as much time as he'd thought.
"But you and your first son are alive, Robert. Do you want him to die too? Tell me how to stop him. I can help you if you just-"
The grip on his hand grew strong enough to silence Dane Whitman. The eyes of the Whizzer grew wild with fury. "He has to die! He has to die so that they may live! That was the bargain I struck. One life for two! Two souls for one! That is the way of things, Dane Whitman. Can't you see?"
"Can't I see what, Robert!? What are you…?" Dane Whitman looked down at the face of the quivering man, there was more than fury in his eyes, more than determination to save his son from Dane and his allies. There was anguish there. Torture. Dane was taken aback by the pain in his eyes. He ran the words of Robert Frank through his mind.
One life for two. Two souls for one.
"I sold m-my soul," Robert Frank uttered through shaking lips. A thin trail of blood seeped from his nose. "I bartered the life of my son. He… he promised me that they would r-return to life if I did. He p-promised me a second chance. But… he said there would b-be a price."
Dane Whitman grabbed the speedster gently by his shoulders. "Who? Who did you make the deal with, Robert?"
But Robert Frank was no longer looking at Dane. His body was vibrating more violently than before. His eyes had grown crimson with blood. "I n-n-never imagined it would f-f-feel like this. I have n-no soul. It d-d-does not hurt. It w-will not hurt when my b-boy explodes. He'll t-t-take me away with him. Take everyone away. But they'll be b-back then. That's all that m-matters. My son and m-m-my wife. They'll be happy and… f-free."
Robert Frank spasmed, his back arching violently, and he passed away. Dane Whitman looked up. Nuklo was glowing more fiercely than before. The radiation was building to a feverish pitch. Nuklo would go critical, he would explode, he would take half of Los Angeles with him, and that was the price Robert Frank would pay to return his stillborn child and his wife to Earth. That price, along with his soul.
Dane Whitman heard a tittering laugh from behind him and he turned around. A woman was standing there. She was nude, and Dane immediately recognized her as the woman from the bar. His blood ran cold at the sight of her.
"So you have finally muddled through the mystery. You knew in your soul, Dane Whitman, that I would have my revenge. You and you ridiculous band dared traipse through my domain, now I dare across yours."
"Mephisto," Dane said. His arms broke out in gooseflesh.
"Got it on the second try, sir knight," Mephisto said, his voice sensual, taunting Dane. The Black Knight felt his stomach lurch. "If only you had been quicker to figure it all out."
"You have to stop this, Mephisto. Your quarrel is with me. Only me. Thousands of innocent people will die if you-"
The woman's face rippled with rage. Her emerald eyes flashed. "So arrogant! Is my quarrel only with you, Dane Whitman? I think not. I have no love for these wretched souls. Let them die. Let them spend eternity with me. A city of angels. Fah! I'll tread upon their ashen bones."
The features of the woman began to melt, her skin slipping off of her body and pooling on the pavement. The voice of Mephisto still rang clearly in the air. "I take my leave of you now, blackest of knights. Take comfort in the fact that Robert Frank's soul resides with me now, and that yours, and those you cannot hope to save, will most assuredly follow."
Robbie Baldwin turned back to Wonder Man. His face had gone pale. "What the hell just happened?"
Wonder Man squeezed his hands into fists. "I think our chances of winning just got a whole lot worse."
"That freakin' chick just melted into the freakin' street!" Robbie exclaimed.
Wonder Man nodded numbly. "Saw that."
"Man, I told you, dude…" Speedball said as the heroes approached Dane Whitman. They had managed to get most of the survivors evacuated to a safer location. But now, no location would be safe enough. If they didn't stop Nuklo from exploding, they'd all be dead before nightfall. The Black Knight got to his feet and stepped over the lifeless form of Robert Frank. The three heroes turned as one and looked upon Nuklo, as he lit the sky as brightly as the sun overhead.
"Told him what?" Dane muttered through teeth clenched in pain.
Robbie shook his head. "Heinous as Hell."
NEXT ISSUE: It'll be a hot time on the old town tonight…
CHAMPION LOVERS
Whole lotta love. The first issue of Champions generated a gaggle of letters. Let us hear from Champion Lover #1: Mike Rasbury.
Hey, Mike!
Hey, Raz!
Great first issue. Got me all caught up on things that had happened and I liked seeing through Wonderman's eyes. The story is good, and the voice was right on the money. Good job.
Oh, and thanks to all the guys who let Mike have his roster. It's fresh and fun.
Short. Sweet. To the point. The way a letter should be. Thanks a lot, Raz. I put a lot of effort into my thought process behind that first scene with Wonder Man. He's a fun character to write. And yes, all the writers at M2K who helped me with the roster deserve a tremendous amount of the credit for my first issue, this issue, and all the issues. Thanks again, guys.
Next letter comes from one of those very writers who shelled out their characters to help make the Champions roster a possibility. Brent Lambert.
THE GOOD: Mike writes such an interesting and light tale that you can't help but to smile while reading the story. He gives you classic takes on great characters such as Wonder Man, Black Knight, Hercules, and Speedball. He gives you mystery in the form of the mysterious chrome sphere, Hercules's seducer, and the LL Incorporated. And not to mention despite the fact he's been gone awhile Mike manages to make continuity references.
Continuity has always been a big part of my writing here at M2K (at least I think so), and with the characters I have branching off from other books like Avengers, AWC, Force Works and the like, it's important to keep an eye on what's happening in other books.
THE BAD: The man who just saw a woman pop out of nowhere seemed to be a little too nonchalant about it. I know the people of Marvel live in a world of Thanos, Onslaught, and Apocalypse, but he just seemed to take the sudden appearance with too much calm.
Fair enough. Horace Jasper isn't exactly your typical senior citizen, but hot chicks that just pop up out of thin air would surprise just about anybody, wouldn't they? Well, unless you're a rock star, I guess. Or maybe Hercules.
OVERALL: All in all a great issue. I would suggest this to anybody. Glad to have you back at M2K man!
Great to be back, Brent. Thanks for the words. Moving right along, here's another letter. This one from our mighty EiC: David Wheatley granting Champions the Editor's Choice.
Probably to the surprise of nobody, because Mike's work has always been of a high quality, but it's because of the whole way the issue works out. From the disbanding of the Avengers at the beginning to the personal continuity references at the end, Mike's got a way of telling stories that has certainly been missed over the last year or so. The whole idea of a random set of heroes getting together in LA to stop a threat just works really well. It's a cool concept, and it's going to be another one of the special series we have here at M2K.
Well, I know I was surprised, Dave. Thanks a lot for all the compliments. One of the key sticklers of the series was getting all these guys together at one time. I'm glad it's working for somebody so far.
The downside is the characters, and how many have come from other titles. It's to be hoped that if the cast stays the same, then it's dealt with when they tell their respective teams what's gone down, with the exceptions of Wonder Man and Hercules, who haven't been about for a good while. However, that'll be dealt with later on, I've no doubt. So congrat's Mike, you are this week's Editor's Choice.
Thanks again, Dave. Champions is one of those titles that almost has to be involved with the other series at M2K because of all the migrating of heroes from other titles. Rest assured that I'm not taking anybody on the roster for granted, or the way they came to the "team". Next letter comes from a guy I don't know much about: Robert Rock. Robert reviewed the first issue of Champs on the Heroes List, and I was supremely grateful. Let's check it out.
OK, I admit that I liked the original series a lot and would buy an Essentials edition in a heartbeat. That being said, what about X3's take on the title? Well in a few words, it's good, very good. I really like the cast of characters that he's put together, and I hope that he can keep them together seeing as though they all belong to other titles at M2K. Or they're dead.
Heh. Well, the dead thing should be a little clearer to you now. As far as keeping the characters, time will tell. And I've gotta admit, an Essential Champions would rule ALL.
The set up to get the characters together is believable and the dialogue between Wonder Man and Speedball is fun. The plot keeps us guessing at points. Who is the mysterious woman drugging Herc, and how come there are dead characters running around? Some literally (the Whizzer).
See how kind I am? The man has questions. I have the answers. Wonder Man and Speedball are characters I'm having a lot of fun with. Expect a lot more from both of them (especially Speedy) next issue.
What more could I hope for? Well, if you're swiping characters from other titles (with permission as indicated in the notes at the end) go the whole hog and bring in the Black Widow. Keep up the good work, I'll be here to read it.
I will certainly try, Robert. Black Widow has a solo title at M2K, doing her thing for S.H.I.E.L.D. and hanging out with Daredevil in New York, or I would have swiped her in a second. Maybe a guest appearance at some point...? Thanks again, Rob. Our final letter comes from the man of all men, the first member of the M2K Hall of Fame: Russ Anderson.
…X.
…Russter.
FINALLY got around to reading Champs #1. I liked it a lot. It's got that same balls-to-the-wall action feel that your series at UM had (whatever happened to that, anyway?).
Ah, my forgotten stepchild. Ultimate Marvel underwent some changes, and I'm not sure if the new editorial direction wishes to include Champions or not. Hopefully things will work out there, but if not, I'll always have the image of Atlantis floating over Los Angeles to keep me awake nights. (…sigh)
You did misspell "wreaking" (as in "havoc"), and I'm pretty sure Monica/Photon pilots a police patrol boat, not a fishing boat, but otherwise, good job. I especially liked the insight into just what happened after the Vision's death. Keep it up.
Whoa. Editor in the house. That's why this man is in the Hall of Fame, folks. Thanks for the catches and the comments, Russ. The Wonder Man diatribe was something I had planned for quite a while, and I felt it was necessary after the disbanding of Will Short's Avengers. I'm glad it's turned out to be such a hit. Hopefully I can keep it up.
- Mike Exner III
10/12/2003
"The Eye in the Sky camera is performing adequately, I take it?" said a man at his side. The first man barely glanced at him.
"More than adequately, my friend. Perfectly is the word. Just look at it. You're a genius."
The second man nodded, his face mirroring his pride. "I believe in what you're trying to do here. It's why I agreed to help you."
"And you made the right decision, Mr. Foster," the man said as he turned away from the television screens and paced back to his immense dark oak desk. "The preliminary ratings for the footage of the Scarlet Spider television program in Baltimore tested through the roof, with only nominal complaints from the female and elderly demographic concerned with his menacing appearance."
The man fell gingerly into his plush leather chair and swiveled it around so he could peer at the screens again. "But this endeavor… this will revolutionize television entertainment forever. All we had to do was wait for the prime opportunity to deliver it to the world."
Bill Foster walked up to the desk and placed his hands on top of it. He leaned towards the man leering behind it. "You're talking as if these heroes and villains will be around forever. We're in Los Angeles. Eventually those heroes will return home. This isn't New York with a superhero and villain on every corner."
"I realize that, Mr. Foster," the man said, the smile never faltering from his lips.
"And we can't exactly film the Avengers, New Warriors or Spider-Man at random. We're going to have to get permission from them. Hell, as unlikely as it sounds, they might even acquire representation we'll have to deal with."
The man's eyes turned towards William Emanuel Foster. They were as steady as the tide. "Indeed. And that's why we're not going to New York at all. We're going to stay right here."
Bill Foster's voice went flat. "Stay here?"
"That's right, Bill. May I call you Bill?" the man asked with a grin. "You see, Bill. The idea is not to chase around after the heroes we need like a dog chasing its tail. No. If we do that, we'll be out of business before we have a chance to turn a profit. The Scarlet Spider experiment struggled because no cameraman on Earth is fast enough to keep up with the masked crusader."
"That's why you had me aid your people in designing the Eye," Foster said.
"Yes, but that's only part of the answer."
"So what's the rest of the answer? We can't hire the heroes."
The man looked back to the screens blinking across the room. "Why not?"
"Well… because they're heroes. They're not for sale."
The man shrugged. "You were a hero, Mr. Foster. I acquired your services."
Foster's eyes narrowed. "You didn't buy me. The money's nice, I'm not going to pretend it isn't, but your organization is doing a good thing for the superhero community. There's a lot of mistrust out there. The general public doesn't even trust heroes anymore. This is a way to make the people see that heroes make a positive impact. You told me you were using the money this project earns to further that goal. And that you were also planning to donate a large amount of the excess profits to charity. If you were lying-"
"There was no deception, Mr. Foster. And I didn't mean to imply I had bought you. I was merely pointing out the correlation between a man such as yourself and men like…" the man behind the desk gestured towards the television screens, "…them."
The man looked back at Foster. "And I think these particular heroes will do quite well. Just look at them. Wonder Man. A hero who made a living for years behind the camera, satisfying the fickle masses. Dane Whitman. Athletic, attractive, he's a bloody knight in shining armor! Even Speedball makes sense. Every television program needs their comic relief. They're perfect."
"You're forming a team?" Bill Foster asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.
"That's right, Bill,"
Eric Williams, the man once known as the Grim Reaper paused. He didn't notice - or perhaps ignored - the mistrustful tone in Foster's voice. "I introduce you to LL Incorporated's newest and brightest heroes… her Champions."
Bringing out the Dead
Part Twoby Mike Exner III
"Robert, I don't understand. How can you be alive? Why are you doing this?" Dane Whitman said as he tightened his grip on the handle of his photonic sword. Robert Frank, the man known as the Whizzer, whirled around him, keeping the knight off balance, occasionally peppering Dane with forceful blows. But it couldn't be the real Whizzer. That man had died years ago in battle with the same villain who had been responsible for the deaths of his wife and infant child.
Another punch hurtled from the blurred tornado of movement and caught him in his abdomen. The pain was intense. Dane grit his teeth and swung his sword with all his might. The Whizzer danced away effortlessly. The Black Knight was bleeding from a gash in his lower lip. He could feel his eye swelling. A sick heat was blaring at him from the middle of his chest.
…He wished he had his helmet. His armor. This was getting him nowhere.
He let his eyes pass over the steadily growing form of Nuklo as Wonder Man and the youthful hero Speedball confronted him.
Nuklo had been a menace to the Avengers before, but he'd been driven insane with power then. The Avengers had given him a second lease on life, offering him a job as a landscaper, tending the gardens surrounding the mansion. But he was supposed to be dead too. And now it seemed as if his insanity had returned full-force along with his life. He was spasming uncontrollably, his size-altering abilities out of control, hard-radiation seeping from his body and lashing out in all directions. Battering the street, the buildings, innocent people, and the heroes struggling to halt his rampage.
And Robert Frank, recently returned from the dead, and no worse for wear for the trip, was trying his hardest to cripple their efforts to stop it. And it was more than a father trying to protect his son; it was almost as if the Whizzer was trying to buy Nuklo time to accomplish something. Dane was sure of it. But to do what?
The Whizzer certainly wasn't saying. And Dane didn't have time to ponder it any longer as the blur approached, and Robert Frank lit into him again.
Wonder Man braced himself as Nuklo - or whoever the giant now pushing twenty-five feet really was - pummeled him with a barrage of hard-radiation. His ionic physiology would shield him from the majority of the damage Nuklo could do to a normal person, but he was worried about Speedball. The kid had assured him that his kinetic forcefield would deflect anything thrown at it, but Simon still wanted to get this fight over and done with as soon as possible… for all their sakes.
The only problem was that Nuklo wasn't cooperating. No matter how many times Wonder Man battered him on the side of the head with his enhanced strength, Nuklo shrugged it off as if his ionic enemy was nothing more than a pesky housefly.
And Speedball wasn't having any more luck than Simon was. He was bouncing around frantically, gaining more and more momentum with each subsequent collision against Nuklo's irradiated hide. But as Nuklo grew in size, his resistance and strength grew right along with it. They were losing this fight.
Nuklo bellowed incoherently as Speedball collided with one of his knees, and fired a tremendous surge of radiation in the direction of the bouncing hero. The kid tried to shift his body, avoid the wave of energy by angling away from it, but it came too fast. He was submerged in the hard-radiation, and crashed end-over-end like a piece of tumbleweed.
Wonder Man darted for the street as the energy began to dissipate. "Speedball!" The silhouette of the kid was just visible in the murky smoke rising off the street. He was lying in a shallow trench of blacktop that had melted around his form. He wasn't moving.
Wonder Man landed beside the young hero and waved his hands at the foul vapors lingering in the air. The features of Speedball came into view, and Wonder Man could still see the strange bubbly energy bouncing gently over his stilled form.
"Kid, you all right?" Wonder Man whispered as he dropped a hand to the kid's neck. He'd intended to press two fingers to his throat, hoping to find a pulse, but the kinetic energy gave only slightly under the pressure of his hand. Wonder Man pushed a little harder, and the resistance increased.
Speedball opened his eyes, a smile playing around the corners of his lips. "Ma…? Do I really hafta go ta school today?"
Wonder Man breathed a sigh of relief. "You're an idiot, you know that?"
"Yeah, I know. But I couldn't resist. You looked so concerned," Speedball said. His eyes looked past Wonder Man. "Hey, what happened to him?"
Wonder Man turned. Nuklo had gotten noticeably smaller. The energy was still pouring from him uncontrollably, but it almost seemed as if-
"He got smaller when he blasted me. That radiation must be building up in him something serious. And he's not paying attention to us anymore," Speedball finished Simon's thought.
Wonder Man looked back at him. There was something in the kid's voice. "What are you thinking, Speedy? Spit it out."
Robbie tried a sheepish grin, he wasn't used to contributing his opinions on battle strategy. Force Works hardly needed his tactical expertise. "I think he's storing the energy. But I think it's more than he can handle all at once. He has to let it out a little every once in a while. Otherwise, it might kill him."
Wonder Man frowned. "The question is: What's he storing it for? Is he going explode, or what?"
"I don't know," Speedball said as he got to his feet. "But I think maybe we should try and evacuate these people. Because whatever it is, I'm betting it's something heinous as hell."
Wonder Man raised his eyebrows. "Heinous?"
"Oh, shut up."
From far above the heads of the heroes battling down below, a woman stood. She peered down at the chaos being wrought on the streets of Los Angeles, and she smiled. It was a stunning smile, framed by long tresses of vibrant red hair. Her emerald eyes shifted perspective, gazing skyward to the smallish drone hovering above the fray. Her smile widened, then darkened, her ivory teeth moldering to a deep black, her smooth, pale skin wrinkling and reddening. Her clothes caught fire and fell away, revealing the demonic features beneath.
Mephisto turned his glowering yellow eyes back to the street. And then the scent of brimstone filled the air as he began to laugh.
Hercules sat up, his head pounding like the thunder that followed the lightning strike of mighty Zeus himself. An elderly gentleman was peering down at him, and for a moment, Hercules was unsure of where he was. But then he remembered, and he scanned the patrons of the Sidewinder Bar & Grill for his friend and colleague, Dane Whitman.
"He's not here, sir," the elderly fellow said, and then reached a gnarled hand out to help the demi-god to his feet.
Hercules ignored the hand, gathering his legs beneath him and using the bar for support. "And who dost thou speak of, old man?" Hercules grumbled. His head was pounding fiercely, a liquid throbbing beneath his eyelids.
"That young fella who was with you. Believe he's called the Black Knight in some circles," the old man replied, and Hercules raised his eyes to look at him for the first time. He was wearing a rumpled black suit with a black tie. A black cap with an elongated brim was tucked in the crook of one spindly arm. The man's face was weathered and haggard. He had lived a long life, a life of hardship, but Hercules was immortal, and could tell that the man was not quite as old as he appeared.
"And how wouldst thou know of my compatriot's name?"
"He asked that I look after you, sir. He took off like the wind after that explosion went off downtown. There's been quite a few more since you conked out," the old man paused, his eyes grew wistful. "I certainly hope he's all right, that one."
"Perhaps the son of Zeus should strive to change thy hopes to certainty," Hercules said, and he would have stalked to the door, journeyed through the streets of Los Angeles in search of his friend. But as soon as he took his hand from the bar, weakness overcame him, and he slumped back.
The old man placed gentle hands on his shoulders and nudged him to a seat on one of the barstools. "You need to rest, sir. You took an awful fall not all that long ago."
"Your garb is strange for this place," Hercules said. He wasn't sure why. His head was swimming roughly. He felt as though he was under the spell of some foul demoness.
"Uh… yes. Well, I'm a limo-driver… actually. I'm off duty right now. I usually change before-"
Hercules lifted a hand to silence the man. "Hold. I feel passing strange. What is thy name?"
The old man blinked. "It's… Horace, sir. Horace Jasper."
"And I am… Hercules."
"That's right, sir."
"And this establishment is known as the Sidewinder Bar & Grill. I arrived here with Dane Whitman, and partook of a multitude of ale served to me by…" Hercules' eyes opened wide as his memory cleared. "A demoness!"
Horace Jasper nodded in affirmation. "There was certainly something unseemly about that one, sir. I can tell you that."
"Hold, Horace Jasper, that I might glean more from this mystery. There be something more." Hercules turned his vision to the bartop. His eyes wouldn't focus properly, but a single sweep of his hand uncovered what he was looking for. His glass of ale.
He brought the mug around and presented it to the old man.
"Oh no, sir. I've had my fill today. Shouldn't have taken the small bit I did, matter of fact. Still have to drop my limousine off at the station, and-"
Hercules produced a thin smile. "I do not want thou to taste of this fouled brew, Horace Jasper. Merely peer to the bottom of the glass, and tell the Prince of Power what thou observes."
"Well, my eyes aren't quite what they used to be," Horace said as he took hold of the glass and pulled it closer to his eyes. "But… I do see something."
Hercules nodded grimly. "And what dost thou see, Horace Jasper?"
Horace peered over the mug, into the eyes of the demi-god. "It looks like… little leaves. Setting on the bottom."
"Aye," Hercules intoned. "It is as I predicted. This is the trapping of the most hated of mine enemies."
"Who's that, sir?"
"Hera." Hercules spat the name like the poison of a snake drawn from a grisly wound.
"Nay, Herakles," came a voice from behind, and both man and demi-god turned in surprise. Standing before them was a woman draped in green robes. A golden wreath of leaves strewn through hair nearly as vibrant as the leaves themselves. Golden bracelets adorned her wrists and ankles. "'Twas not I who laid thee low."
"Thine actions make a mockery of thy words, foul one. Hast thou come to gloat over thy victory?" Hercules struggled to stand, but he could only quiver before her, his knees too weak to support him. He felt heat rise to his cheeks. Shame at feeling so utterly helpless.
"I say again, Herakles. 'Twas not I," Hera replied as she padded softly towards them. Horace Jasper stepped in front of the woman.
"I told his friend I'd let no harm come to him, miss. I'm afraid I can't let you any closer than that."
"I mean him no harm, human," Hera said. "But thy loyalty to one who thou dost not know in the slightest is to be applauded. Were it that more humans could show such selflessness and charity as thee."
Horace Jasper suddenly found he couldn't move. Only his eyes remained unaffected, and they followed Hera as she moved gracefully past.
"Herakles, thou hath been deceived, but not by my hand. Thou knowst of the curse of poison that follows the leaves 'pon which my golden apples grow?"
"Aye, and Hercules also knowst of thy base hatred for the Prince of Power. Wouldst thou not stoop to so base a form of revenge to serve thy twisted will?"
"Thou hast judged me poorly, Herakles," Hera whispered, running her fingers along the weathered beard of the demi-god. "Verily, I hath desired thy demise from afar. Yet 'twas not I who poisoned thee. 'Twas another. One who hath stolen the leaves from mine sacred gardens, and slipped them into thy drink."
Hercules chuckled, and struggled to pull his face from Hera's touch. "And thou doth expect I shouldst believe thee, Hera? Believe the words of one who hast e'er deceived gods and mortals alike? Thou hast ne'er thought me a fool."
"Thou art most skeptical, Herakles. But nay, I didst not expect that thou wouldst believe my words," Hera said with a sneer. "Alas, mine actions shouldst be enough to prove my intentions."
Hera took hold of Hercules' face with a grip of iron. Hercules struggled to free himself, but he was too weak to resist. Hera opened her mouth, and pressed her lips fully to Hercules' own. It was a brief brush of the lips, and then Hera backed away. "Let he who stole from the garden of Hera learn from his folly. I grant thee thy chance at revenge, stepson. For the both of us."
And then there was a rustling of fabric, a shimmering light, and Hera was gone.
Horace Jasper found he could move again. He turned to Hercules, and the Prince of Power rose to his full height before him. "Sir! Are you all right?"
Hercules nodded, wiping at his lips with one massive forearm. "Verily, it appears as if my stepmother hath restored my vitality, Horace Jasper. I thank thee for thy concern."
"So you're going to follow Mr. Whitman now? Take the fight to whoever it was that poisoned you with them strange leaves?"
"Aye, Horace," Hercules replied, wrapping an arm around the man's shoulder as he moved towards the door. "But mayhap I could have thine ear and thy service for a moment more? If thou art willing, there be one last task the Prince of Power would have thee do."
"I'm growing weary of you, Whitman," the Whizzer said as he darted in and rapidly struck the Black Knight across the jaw. "It was amusing to toy with you for a while, but my boy needs his father. So it's time for you to fall. If not, you can die. The choice is yours."
The Black Knight spit a glob of blood onto the cracked pavement. His entire body was trembling from the beating he'd taken. But he was still standing, much to the quiet amazement of his opponent. "I'm not going anywhere, Whizzer. You turn away from me, and I'll stab you in the back."
Robert Frank frowned. "Very well. You leave me no choice. Nothing is going to keep my boy from accomplishing what I set out for him to do, knight. If I have to kill you to make that happen, so be it."
The Whizzer rushed forward, almost faster than Dane could register with his eyes. He didn't have a chance to raise his sword before the blows were raining down upon him. Six punches fell before he felt the sting of pain from the first. He willed himself to endure it. He knew that if he tried to swing at Robert Frank, the man would just dart away again. In his arrogance, the man hadn't tried to take Dane's weapon from him. That arrogance would probably be the only thing capable of saving Dane's life.
The hits continued to come at an ever-increasing rate. The pain was growing unbearable. Dane knew the Whizzer fully intended to beat him to pulp. A man who had once been a hero. A hero Dane himself had admired as a child. It made what Dane had to do all the harder.
During one of the previous onslaughts, Dane had been forced to the ground, steadying himself by placing his hand on the pavement. A thin sliver of glass had imbedded itself in his glove. Dane pulled it out of his skin. He gripped it between finger and thumb. He had opened the hilt of his photonic sword during the scuffle, sliding the covering off the power source. Now he thrust the strip of glass into the wiring and stiffened at the brief electrical shock that traveled through his body. But his eyes remained open, and the desired effect occurred.
The blade of photonic particles surged at the intrusion. Reaching out, elongating at the speed of light, and striking the Whizzer through the chest. He bellowed in rage and pain as the effects of the attack disrupted his neural pathways, and laid him low.
Dane Whitman fell to a knee. He held his ribs gingerly, it was a struggle to breathe, and his face felt like ground beef. He rose, and moved gingerly to the spot where the Whizzer had fallen. His sword a useless weight in his hand.
The Whizzer stared up at him, blinking rapidly. Dane could see that he was struggling to move, but to no avail. A leg or arm struck by the blade would go numb for a number of minutes. With a shot to the head or through the chest, the neural inhibitors would remain active for at least a half-hour in a normal person. But in a body with as advanced a metabolism as the Whizzer, there was no telling how long the effects would linger.
"What is h-happening?" The Whizzer whispered through clenched teeth. "I can't… can't move."
Dane stooped down and knelt before the old man. "Robert, what's going on here? You have to tell me. How is it possible that I'm looking at you right now? You're supposed to be dead."
The Whizzer's eyes finally focused on Dane. He continued to blink rapidly, but his gaze never faltered from Dane's eyes. "D-Dane Whitman? I… I was fighting you. Yes. You were t-trying to stop… my boy."
"I had to, Robert. He's killing people. Can't you see that?"
"They're dead!" Robert wailed, and Dane flinched. He winced as his ribs flared beneath his hand. They were probably cracked. Or worse. He could only hope there weren't any serious internal injuries.
"I know they're dead, Robert. Nuk… your son killed them. He's out of control. Do you know what's wrong with him? Why he keeps storing the energy?" Dane looked up, noticing for the first time that Nuklo had stopped fighting. But the threat hadn't ceased. Wonder Man and Speedball were carrying people to a safe distance as Nuklo continued to shed his energies in destructive blasts. But Dane could see he was still struggling to keep it inside. Fighting with all of his might to hold it in the pit of his stomach.
"No. You can't see, can you? They're dead. My wife and my child are dead," the Whizzer whispered, a single tear dropping from each rapidly blinking eye.
Dane grasped his hand, he hoped it would be a comfort to the man struggling to move before him. He could feel the vibrations of motion through the man's fingers. He didn't have as much time as he'd thought.
"But you and your first son are alive, Robert. Do you want him to die too? Tell me how to stop him. I can help you if you just-"
The grip on his hand grew strong enough to silence Dane Whitman. The eyes of the Whizzer grew wild with fury. "He has to die! He has to die so that they may live! That was the bargain I struck. One life for two! Two souls for one! That is the way of things, Dane Whitman. Can't you see?"
"Can't I see what, Robert!? What are you…?" Dane Whitman looked down at the face of the quivering man, there was more than fury in his eyes, more than determination to save his son from Dane and his allies. There was anguish there. Torture. Dane was taken aback by the pain in his eyes. He ran the words of Robert Frank through his mind.
One life for two. Two souls for one.
"I sold m-my soul," Robert Frank uttered through shaking lips. A thin trail of blood seeped from his nose. "I bartered the life of my son. He… he promised me that they would r-return to life if I did. He p-promised me a second chance. But… he said there would b-be a price."
Dane Whitman grabbed the speedster gently by his shoulders. "Who? Who did you make the deal with, Robert?"
But Robert Frank was no longer looking at Dane. His body was vibrating more violently than before. His eyes had grown crimson with blood. "I n-n-never imagined it would f-f-feel like this. I have n-no soul. It d-d-does not hurt. It w-will not hurt when my b-boy explodes. He'll t-t-take me away with him. Take everyone away. But they'll be b-back then. That's all that m-matters. My son and m-m-my wife. They'll be happy and… f-free."
Robert Frank spasmed, his back arching violently, and he passed away. Dane Whitman looked up. Nuklo was glowing more fiercely than before. The radiation was building to a feverish pitch. Nuklo would go critical, he would explode, he would take half of Los Angeles with him, and that was the price Robert Frank would pay to return his stillborn child and his wife to Earth. That price, along with his soul.
Dane Whitman heard a tittering laugh from behind him and he turned around. A woman was standing there. She was nude, and Dane immediately recognized her as the woman from the bar. His blood ran cold at the sight of her.
"So you have finally muddled through the mystery. You knew in your soul, Dane Whitman, that I would have my revenge. You and you ridiculous band dared traipse through my domain, now I dare across yours."
"Mephisto," Dane said. His arms broke out in gooseflesh.
"Got it on the second try, sir knight," Mephisto said, his voice sensual, taunting Dane. The Black Knight felt his stomach lurch. "If only you had been quicker to figure it all out."
"You have to stop this, Mephisto. Your quarrel is with me. Only me. Thousands of innocent people will die if you-"
The woman's face rippled with rage. Her emerald eyes flashed. "So arrogant! Is my quarrel only with you, Dane Whitman? I think not. I have no love for these wretched souls. Let them die. Let them spend eternity with me. A city of angels. Fah! I'll tread upon their ashen bones."
The features of the woman began to melt, her skin slipping off of her body and pooling on the pavement. The voice of Mephisto still rang clearly in the air. "I take my leave of you now, blackest of knights. Take comfort in the fact that Robert Frank's soul resides with me now, and that yours, and those you cannot hope to save, will most assuredly follow."
Robbie Baldwin turned back to Wonder Man. His face had gone pale. "What the hell just happened?"
Wonder Man squeezed his hands into fists. "I think our chances of winning just got a whole lot worse."
"That freakin' chick just melted into the freakin' street!" Robbie exclaimed.
Wonder Man nodded numbly. "Saw that."
"Man, I told you, dude…" Speedball said as the heroes approached Dane Whitman. They had managed to get most of the survivors evacuated to a safer location. But now, no location would be safe enough. If they didn't stop Nuklo from exploding, they'd all be dead before nightfall. The Black Knight got to his feet and stepped over the lifeless form of Robert Frank. The three heroes turned as one and looked upon Nuklo, as he lit the sky as brightly as the sun overhead.
"Told him what?" Dane muttered through teeth clenched in pain.
Robbie shook his head. "Heinous as Hell."
NEXT ISSUE: It'll be a hot time on the old town tonight…
CHAMPION LOVERS
Whole lotta love. The first issue of Champions generated a gaggle of letters. Let us hear from Champion Lover #1: Mike Rasbury.
Hey, Mike!
Hey, Raz!
Great first issue. Got me all caught up on things that had happened and I liked seeing through Wonderman's eyes. The story is good, and the voice was right on the money. Good job.
Oh, and thanks to all the guys who let Mike have his roster. It's fresh and fun.
Short. Sweet. To the point. The way a letter should be. Thanks a lot, Raz. I put a lot of effort into my thought process behind that first scene with Wonder Man. He's a fun character to write. And yes, all the writers at M2K who helped me with the roster deserve a tremendous amount of the credit for my first issue, this issue, and all the issues. Thanks again, guys.
Next letter comes from one of those very writers who shelled out their characters to help make the Champions roster a possibility. Brent Lambert.
THE GOOD: Mike writes such an interesting and light tale that you can't help but to smile while reading the story. He gives you classic takes on great characters such as Wonder Man, Black Knight, Hercules, and Speedball. He gives you mystery in the form of the mysterious chrome sphere, Hercules's seducer, and the LL Incorporated. And not to mention despite the fact he's been gone awhile Mike manages to make continuity references.
Continuity has always been a big part of my writing here at M2K (at least I think so), and with the characters I have branching off from other books like Avengers, AWC, Force Works and the like, it's important to keep an eye on what's happening in other books.
THE BAD: The man who just saw a woman pop out of nowhere seemed to be a little too nonchalant about it. I know the people of Marvel live in a world of Thanos, Onslaught, and Apocalypse, but he just seemed to take the sudden appearance with too much calm.
Fair enough. Horace Jasper isn't exactly your typical senior citizen, but hot chicks that just pop up out of thin air would surprise just about anybody, wouldn't they? Well, unless you're a rock star, I guess. Or maybe Hercules.
OVERALL: All in all a great issue. I would suggest this to anybody. Glad to have you back at M2K man!
Great to be back, Brent. Thanks for the words. Moving right along, here's another letter. This one from our mighty EiC: David Wheatley granting Champions the Editor's Choice.
Probably to the surprise of nobody, because Mike's work has always been of a high quality, but it's because of the whole way the issue works out. From the disbanding of the Avengers at the beginning to the personal continuity references at the end, Mike's got a way of telling stories that has certainly been missed over the last year or so. The whole idea of a random set of heroes getting together in LA to stop a threat just works really well. It's a cool concept, and it's going to be another one of the special series we have here at M2K.
Well, I know I was surprised, Dave. Thanks a lot for all the compliments. One of the key sticklers of the series was getting all these guys together at one time. I'm glad it's working for somebody so far.
The downside is the characters, and how many have come from other titles. It's to be hoped that if the cast stays the same, then it's dealt with when they tell their respective teams what's gone down, with the exceptions of Wonder Man and Hercules, who haven't been about for a good while. However, that'll be dealt with later on, I've no doubt. So congrat's Mike, you are this week's Editor's Choice.
Thanks again, Dave. Champions is one of those titles that almost has to be involved with the other series at M2K because of all the migrating of heroes from other titles. Rest assured that I'm not taking anybody on the roster for granted, or the way they came to the "team". Next letter comes from a guy I don't know much about: Robert Rock. Robert reviewed the first issue of Champs on the Heroes List, and I was supremely grateful. Let's check it out.
OK, I admit that I liked the original series a lot and would buy an Essentials edition in a heartbeat. That being said, what about X3's take on the title? Well in a few words, it's good, very good. I really like the cast of characters that he's put together, and I hope that he can keep them together seeing as though they all belong to other titles at M2K. Or they're dead.
Heh. Well, the dead thing should be a little clearer to you now. As far as keeping the characters, time will tell. And I've gotta admit, an Essential Champions would rule ALL.
The set up to get the characters together is believable and the dialogue between Wonder Man and Speedball is fun. The plot keeps us guessing at points. Who is the mysterious woman drugging Herc, and how come there are dead characters running around? Some literally (the Whizzer).
See how kind I am? The man has questions. I have the answers. Wonder Man and Speedball are characters I'm having a lot of fun with. Expect a lot more from both of them (especially Speedy) next issue.
What more could I hope for? Well, if you're swiping characters from other titles (with permission as indicated in the notes at the end) go the whole hog and bring in the Black Widow. Keep up the good work, I'll be here to read it.
I will certainly try, Robert. Black Widow has a solo title at M2K, doing her thing for S.H.I.E.L.D. and hanging out with Daredevil in New York, or I would have swiped her in a second. Maybe a guest appearance at some point...? Thanks again, Rob. Our final letter comes from the man of all men, the first member of the M2K Hall of Fame: Russ Anderson.
…X.
…Russter.
FINALLY got around to reading Champs #1. I liked it a lot. It's got that same balls-to-the-wall action feel that your series at UM had (whatever happened to that, anyway?).
Ah, my forgotten stepchild. Ultimate Marvel underwent some changes, and I'm not sure if the new editorial direction wishes to include Champions or not. Hopefully things will work out there, but if not, I'll always have the image of Atlantis floating over Los Angeles to keep me awake nights. (…sigh)
You did misspell "wreaking" (as in "havoc"), and I'm pretty sure Monica/Photon pilots a police patrol boat, not a fishing boat, but otherwise, good job. I especially liked the insight into just what happened after the Vision's death. Keep it up.
Whoa. Editor in the house. That's why this man is in the Hall of Fame, folks. Thanks for the catches and the comments, Russ. The Wonder Man diatribe was something I had planned for quite a while, and I felt it was necessary after the disbanding of Will Short's Avengers. I'm glad it's turned out to be such a hit. Hopefully I can keep it up.
- Mike Exner III
10/12/2003