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Issue #3 by D. Golightly
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"Balance - Part Three (Conclusion)"
“Suffer unto me, Luke Cage.”
The heel of John Aman’s right foot crested down and crashed into the top of Luke Cage’s skull, leveling him out on the pavement. It wasn’t so much the force of the blow that laid out the original hired hero; it was the pinpoint accuracy of the strike. The heel slammed down at the pinnacle of Cage’s dome, displacing energy across his whole head, and literally rattling his brain.
Cage rolled onto his back and sprung up, landing squarely on his feet again, but facing the wrong way. The Prince of Orphans drove both of his fists into Cage’s kidneys, once again choosing a slender and pinpointed attack over brute strength.
Buckling to his knees from the sudden pain shooting up and down his spine, he felt like he might vomit. With the kind of muster that had come from years of brawling with the true heavyweights of the superhero world, Cage tossed his weight backward and stabbed his elbow into Aman’s crotch.
The low tactic would be frowned upon in Ben Grimm’s old wrestling federation, but on the street fighting clean and fighting dirty were the same thing as far as Cage was concerned.
Aman doubled back, desperate to regain his composure. The stumble gave cage just enough time to get back on his feet and regain his bearings. He was in a parking lot, he was sweaty from the wretched humidity of the southern town, and he tired of people picking fights with him.
“Don’t know you; don’t care,” Luke muttered as he launched himself at the green-cloaked individual that had identified himself as the Prince of Orphans. “I just want you to give me back Danny, and I’ll beat you until you give him up, freak.”
With the minor loss of his concentration, John Aman’s bald features shifted to reveal Luke’s former partner for just the flash of a second. The smoky image of Daniel Rand, the Iron Fist, was somehow superimposed over top of Aman’s face. Then, gone just as fast as it had appeared, Danny’s face vanished and Aman grimaced.
Luke roared incoherently as he slammed his pile-driver fists into Aman’s torso. The secretive Prince of Orphans, who had moves to rival Danny himself, teetered against the strength of the former Power Man, but remained on his feet. While Cage wasn’t familiar with Aman, he was still surprised that the guy was still standing since he had him pegged for just another martial arts guru.
The stab of Luke’s next blow was deflected by Aman’s forearm, then countered by a strike from the Prince of Orphan’s fingertips into the center of Luke’s chest, stunning a cluster of nerves.
Stunned, Luke was open to a volley of quick blows from Aman across his face, chest, and arms. The series of strikes was anything but random as select chakra points were assaulted. Aman ended the sortie by leaping up and shooting his right knee into Luke’s chin, which sent Luke sprawling.
Plumes of green smoke wrapped around both of them as Aman stood over Luke, gazing down at the stunned hero.
“You’re all that keeps him from releasing the blade to me,” the raspy voice of Aman said.
Cage shook his head to clear the cobwebs before responding. “What are you talking about? Danny?”
“The Blade of the Dragon,” Aman said. “It is mine by right. I helped forge the blade in the furnace at the center of the mystic city. Your friend unveiled it and merged with it unwittingly. It will destroy him. Only I can control the blade. To take it from him, you must die.”
“Danny! I know you’re in this wacko’s head! Fight him, bro!”
Aman kicked Cage’s ribs, silencing his pleas. While the blow itself did little to push the limits of Luke’s resilient durability, like all of Aman’s attacks it was pinpointed to cause maximum discomfort and dishevelment. The surgical exactness of Aman’s assault circumvented Cage’s usual tactics.
“The usurper cannot hear you,” Aman stated. “You have no idea what you are fighting against. This plan has been in motion for the last two years, Luke Cage. You will finally—”
The Prince of Orphans seized up, and his hands shot to his face and gripped the sides of his head. He took several steps back, seemingly dazed, as the smoky outline of Danny slipped back over Aman’s features once more.
Danny’s voice broke through Aman’s wails of agony, warbled, but clear enough for Cage to understand. “Luke!” Danny shouted. “Grip his right hand!”
“Danny?”
“Do it! I don’t know how long I can hold him like this!”
Blindly obeying his trusted friend, Luke Cage leapt back onto his feet and rushed Aman, tackling him around the waste. Aman’s cloak billowed and spread out on the ground under them as the green smoke began to recede. Luke locked in his grip and there was no chance for Aman to shake free now.
Aman’s arms flailed, pummeling Cage’s back with driving elbows and palm strikes, but with no leverage or key chakra points to target it was all useless. Tactically Cage finally had the advantage, using his grappling skills to keep Aman pinned on the ground.
With a quick flash of movement, Cage caught Aman’s right wrist in the air and held it there, hoping that this was all that Danny needed to do whatever it was he was going to do.
Over the years Cage had learned to trust Danny even when he was totally clueless about what he was doing. It was a foundation of their friendship. Cage didn’t really trust anyone else the way that he trusted Danny Rand.
“You’re a fool,” Aman muttered.
“Says the man getting his ass whupped.”
Aman’s hand begin to shimmer in Cage’s grip, much like his facial features become clouded over with Danny’s image. A second hand become superimposed over Aman’s, and within a heartbeat it began to glow. Cage recognized that glow as he had seen it many times over the years.
It was the Iron Fist.
The yellow energy rocketed up John Aman’s arm, covering both him and Cage completely. For the tick of a second, in the space between moments, when the entire planet is held still, the three men were joined.
Then the built-up power burst like a bulging bubble and Cage was thrown clear of the Prince of Orphans. The original hired hero was tossed up against his black Dodge Charger, slamming into the driver’s side door, causing the door to buckle inward. He slid to the asphalt and watched the scene unfold before him.
John Aman was lifted a few feet off the ground, his right arm held aloft, which seemingly dragged him upward. His legs kicked at nothing, trying to gain some shift in momentum to free himself. His left hand clawed at his right arm, like he was trying to scrape away the energy of the Iron Fist.
Cage felt pressure against his diamond-hard skin, like he had been thrown into a vacuum. Aman screeched something in a language that Cage didn’t recognize, and then a flash of light enveloped the entire parking lot.
Luke shielded his eyes from the blinding light and when the pressure relented the light died down as well. He blinked a few times and then focused on a crouching man that looked to be shivering. It was Danny, golden hair and black dragon chest tattoo and all.
“Danny!” Luke exclaimed as he ran across the parking lot to join his friend. He placed his hand on Danny’s shoulder, but his friend flinched and pulled away.
Daniel Rand looked like a broken man. His entire body was shaking, although it was barely cold at all there in the parking lot. His glanced up at Cage but couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact for some reason. His right arm glowed faintly, reeking of mystic energy. Danny held his right forearm with his left hand, as if bracing it. The fingers in his right hand were rigid and looked like they were in pain.
“Luke,” Danny finally muttered. “Stand back.”
“What the sweet Christmas is going on?” Luke demanded, but he heeded his friend’s wishes and took three steps backward.
“I’m…” Danny cleared his throat and closed his eyes. “I’m not entirely sure. I…I need to…”
Then he promptly passed out and fell to the cold, hard, unforgiving asphalt.
# # # # #
“I don’t care what the reports say,” Agent Travers said as he faced the large screen plastering the wall of his office. “The Vault is not providing accurate inmate information. Given their recent troubles I severely doubt that we can place any trust in our inside man.”
The screen held the faces of three of the top brass at the Commission on Superhuman Activity. They looked displeased.
“Our woman on the inside,” the central figure, a red-haired woman, said.
“Yes, woman on the inside,” Travers said dismissively. “Regardless, we have no idea of what their current status truly reflects. We need to take control of the facility completely, as opposed to this half-assed coup you initiated.”
“James Rhodes has proven himself capable of remaining independent of Commission control,” one of the other talking heads shot back at him. “If it wasn’t for him—”
“Yes, Doctor Octavius would undoubtedly still be using the Vault as his private base of operations, complete with an army of supervillains. I know your argument. What I’m saying is that we can’t trust that Rhodes is releasing all of the available data to us.”
“Perhaps if you weren’t sidetracked with this side project of yours you would be able to know for sure if our intelligence from the Vault is accurate.”
Travers smirked and reached for a cigarette. “Side project? Yes. Well. That’s providing several dividends that will prove useful in the coming future.”
Something on the corner of his desk moved and caught his eye, causing his smirk to widen into a full grin.
“In fact, I have to give that side project a little attention at the moment. Thank you, everyone.”
Before his three superiors could voice their discontent, Travers cut off the teleconference, stuffed the cigarette into his mouth, and plopped down into his leather desk chair. He leered at a glass bottle on the end of his desk, leaning closer toward it to get a better look at what had caught his eye previously.
“Hello, John,” Travers said just before lighting up.
The bottle was filled with green smoke, which slowly began to dissipate. Revealed behind the cloud was the green-cloaked visage of the Prince of Orphans. He slammed his fists against the translucent glass, but to no avail. He looked like he was shouting, but no sound came out of the capped bottle.
“Got the better of you, did he?” Travers asked. “I thought he might, but I’m a little disappointed that it happened so quickly. I assumed that the Prince of Orphans could handle Luke Cage. Or was it Daniel Rand that sent you back to me?”
John Aman’s face was filled with fury, but he finally settled down enough to refrain from bashing uselessly against the inside of the bottle.
“I sent Luke Cage on a mission to kill Daniel Rand,” Travers said. “You were supposed to kill Rand, and then kill Cage when he showed up. If my subliminal programming with Cage had the pair kill one another before you happened along, then so be it, and you were to take out the victor of their brawl. But it seems like all of this was just a waste of time…or was it?”
Aman turned his gaze elsewhere, not wishing to match his eyes to Travers’.
Agent Travers slapped the table with glee. “Sonofabitch! You did it, didn’t you? Show it to me.”
With obvious reluctance the Prince of Orphans parted his cloak and held out his right arm. He concentrated for a moment and then a spark of energy ruptured outward, solidifying into a white blade with a dragon head at the base of the pommel.
The Blade of the Dragon, a sacred instrument of death forged in the heart of the mystic city, K’un Lun. The very weapon that Daniel Rand had been determined to detach from his chi to save his life.
“Fantastic,” Travers said. “So, my intel on Stephen Strange was correct. Our wondrous Sorcerer Supreme sent Rand to the Florida everglades to seek help, and the Nexus of Realities sent Rand to you in turn. What did you do, tell him you would train him or something?”
With a swirl of movement the sword vanished and John Aman allowed the folds of his cloak to cover his personage once more. He remained silent.
“Yes, all of you kung fu guys say garbage like that at one point or another,” Travers continued. “I don’t know how you extracted it from him, but you did it. You did it. That takes us one step closer to reaching our mutual goals, my friend. A shame that they’re still alive, though. Cage and Rand, I mean. They are still alive, I assume, since you’re here on my desk and not bashing down my door trying to kill me.”
Travers puffed out a discolored cloud of smoke and stood up. He cracked the joints in his fingers by flexing them, and then took another long drag of his cigarette. He turned away from the desk, still addressing the Prince of Orphans.
“It doesn’t matter. Cage and Rand will never trace you to this location, and they have no idea of my involvement. Still…they’ve proven themselves resourceful. It’s best to clean up your mess before it has the chance to become problematic. There’s someone else close to them I’ve been thinking of employing. Perhaps it’s time to take the next step and clean up your failure.”
Travers departed the office, leaving the Prince of Orphans to his own devises. Even if Aman could have made himself heard, he wouldn’t have told Travers that upon being expelled from Daniel Rand’s body that he had been connected to both Rand and Cage.
And that connection had revealed more than Travers would be comfortable with.
# # # # #
“Drink this,” Cage said.
Back in his hotel room, Luke had finally been able to get Danny to come around. Sprawled out on the single bed, Danny slowly sat up and accepted the cup of cold tap water that Luke had brought him. It tasted good and he was thankful for the refreshment, which did a lot to wake him up fully.
“Thanks, Luke,” Danny said.
“Don’t thank me, bro. You’ve saved my butt dozens of times before. All I did was shake hands with the bad guy. What happened back there?”
“It’s kind of hard to explain.”
“Try me.”
Danny smiled and took in a deep breath before beginning. “Doctor Strange sent me to Florida in seek of someone that could help me disconnect my chi from the Blade of the Dragon. I came across some kind of portal that brought me to John Aman.”
“The guy in the parking lot.”
“Yeah, him. He’s bad news, Luke. He merged with me somehow…I’m not familiar with the technique he used, but it was similar to the ceremony I went through to gain the power of the Iron Fist.”
“Wait a hot second,” Cage said. “You told me you got those power by punching a dragon in the heart.”
Danny nodded. “Yep. Hurt like hell when Aman did it to me. When he did we connected he merged with the blade, and when I cast him out he took it with him.”
“What? Seriously? So…you’re cured?”
Danny smiled. “You could say that. My chi is back in balance again.”
Luke picked Danny up in a huge bear hug, lifting him off the small bed. He spun him around and quickly deposited him back down again once he realized his childish he was acting. Recomposing himself, Luke slapped Danny on the back and just beamed at him.
“I mean…that’s cool, bro,” Luke muttered.
“Thanks, Luke. I appreciate it. Without your help I wouldn’t have been able to cast out Aman and take back my body. When you grabbed his hand, I was able to use your strength to merge the chi of all three of us. Then I kicked Aman out of the loop and he lost control. He sought you out because I was fighting him from the inside, and he knew that my connection to you would be my undoing. Thus, he came after you before I could give him the boot.”
“Good riddance.”
Danny shook his head. “I thought we would just be split apart, but someone is pulling his strings, Luke. He wasn’t just cast out, he was ripped. Someone has him in their power.”
“Which means they have the blade in their power now, too.”
“Exactly. Plus, there’s more. You were sent to kill me, Luke.”
“What?”
“When I connected our chi, I got a look inside your head. Someone’s been screwing with your memories, Luke. You were attacked back in Chicago and then a subliminal suggestion was planted in your brain to seek me out and kill me. I disabled the suggestion when we were connected.”
Luke crossed his arms over his massive chest and leaned back against the ratty lounge chair in the hotel room. He twisted his neck to try and relieve the building tension in his shoulders, but it didn’t help. He hated being controlled, more than he hated just about anything else.
It harkened back to being wrongly accused, set up, imprisoned, and fleeing the authorities that wanted to lock him back up again. It had taken a long time to get out from under that injustice, which in his mind, was all a form of control.
“You get a name along with those memories?” Luke finally asked.
Danny stood up and nodded. “Travers. Agent Travers of the Commission for Superhuman Activity.”
“Then I guess we know where our story goes next, huh?”
# # # # #
TO BE CONTINUED
It’s been awhile since I finished a fanfic issue. Years, actually. I’ve been mainly focused on freelance writing and audio production, along with my day job, my growing family, and other hobbies. It feels good to finally finish this issue of Power Man & Iron Fist, especially because I started writing it over a year ago.
Cory pointed out to me that the message board was blowing up recently, which intrigued me. M2K has always been the site that never dies, and it certainly seems the case. A few new writers have joined the group and some old favorites are active again.
Can we regain our former glory as a leader in the fanfic realm? Undoubtedly. When I was EiC I recall having around 30-some issues as surplus for releases. Let’s build that up again!
What you’re going to see in the next series of adventures for our kung fu cowboy and the man who can bench press a bus:
Thanks for reading!
-D. Golightly
10/12/2014
The heel of John Aman’s right foot crested down and crashed into the top of Luke Cage’s skull, leveling him out on the pavement. It wasn’t so much the force of the blow that laid out the original hired hero; it was the pinpoint accuracy of the strike. The heel slammed down at the pinnacle of Cage’s dome, displacing energy across his whole head, and literally rattling his brain.
Cage rolled onto his back and sprung up, landing squarely on his feet again, but facing the wrong way. The Prince of Orphans drove both of his fists into Cage’s kidneys, once again choosing a slender and pinpointed attack over brute strength.
Buckling to his knees from the sudden pain shooting up and down his spine, he felt like he might vomit. With the kind of muster that had come from years of brawling with the true heavyweights of the superhero world, Cage tossed his weight backward and stabbed his elbow into Aman’s crotch.
The low tactic would be frowned upon in Ben Grimm’s old wrestling federation, but on the street fighting clean and fighting dirty were the same thing as far as Cage was concerned.
Aman doubled back, desperate to regain his composure. The stumble gave cage just enough time to get back on his feet and regain his bearings. He was in a parking lot, he was sweaty from the wretched humidity of the southern town, and he tired of people picking fights with him.
“Don’t know you; don’t care,” Luke muttered as he launched himself at the green-cloaked individual that had identified himself as the Prince of Orphans. “I just want you to give me back Danny, and I’ll beat you until you give him up, freak.”
With the minor loss of his concentration, John Aman’s bald features shifted to reveal Luke’s former partner for just the flash of a second. The smoky image of Daniel Rand, the Iron Fist, was somehow superimposed over top of Aman’s face. Then, gone just as fast as it had appeared, Danny’s face vanished and Aman grimaced.
Luke roared incoherently as he slammed his pile-driver fists into Aman’s torso. The secretive Prince of Orphans, who had moves to rival Danny himself, teetered against the strength of the former Power Man, but remained on his feet. While Cage wasn’t familiar with Aman, he was still surprised that the guy was still standing since he had him pegged for just another martial arts guru.
The stab of Luke’s next blow was deflected by Aman’s forearm, then countered by a strike from the Prince of Orphan’s fingertips into the center of Luke’s chest, stunning a cluster of nerves.
Stunned, Luke was open to a volley of quick blows from Aman across his face, chest, and arms. The series of strikes was anything but random as select chakra points were assaulted. Aman ended the sortie by leaping up and shooting his right knee into Luke’s chin, which sent Luke sprawling.
Plumes of green smoke wrapped around both of them as Aman stood over Luke, gazing down at the stunned hero.
“You’re all that keeps him from releasing the blade to me,” the raspy voice of Aman said.
Cage shook his head to clear the cobwebs before responding. “What are you talking about? Danny?”
“The Blade of the Dragon,” Aman said. “It is mine by right. I helped forge the blade in the furnace at the center of the mystic city. Your friend unveiled it and merged with it unwittingly. It will destroy him. Only I can control the blade. To take it from him, you must die.”
“Danny! I know you’re in this wacko’s head! Fight him, bro!”
Aman kicked Cage’s ribs, silencing his pleas. While the blow itself did little to push the limits of Luke’s resilient durability, like all of Aman’s attacks it was pinpointed to cause maximum discomfort and dishevelment. The surgical exactness of Aman’s assault circumvented Cage’s usual tactics.
“The usurper cannot hear you,” Aman stated. “You have no idea what you are fighting against. This plan has been in motion for the last two years, Luke Cage. You will finally—”
The Prince of Orphans seized up, and his hands shot to his face and gripped the sides of his head. He took several steps back, seemingly dazed, as the smoky outline of Danny slipped back over Aman’s features once more.
Danny’s voice broke through Aman’s wails of agony, warbled, but clear enough for Cage to understand. “Luke!” Danny shouted. “Grip his right hand!”
“Danny?”
“Do it! I don’t know how long I can hold him like this!”
Blindly obeying his trusted friend, Luke Cage leapt back onto his feet and rushed Aman, tackling him around the waste. Aman’s cloak billowed and spread out on the ground under them as the green smoke began to recede. Luke locked in his grip and there was no chance for Aman to shake free now.
Aman’s arms flailed, pummeling Cage’s back with driving elbows and palm strikes, but with no leverage or key chakra points to target it was all useless. Tactically Cage finally had the advantage, using his grappling skills to keep Aman pinned on the ground.
With a quick flash of movement, Cage caught Aman’s right wrist in the air and held it there, hoping that this was all that Danny needed to do whatever it was he was going to do.
Over the years Cage had learned to trust Danny even when he was totally clueless about what he was doing. It was a foundation of their friendship. Cage didn’t really trust anyone else the way that he trusted Danny Rand.
“You’re a fool,” Aman muttered.
“Says the man getting his ass whupped.”
Aman’s hand begin to shimmer in Cage’s grip, much like his facial features become clouded over with Danny’s image. A second hand become superimposed over Aman’s, and within a heartbeat it began to glow. Cage recognized that glow as he had seen it many times over the years.
It was the Iron Fist.
The yellow energy rocketed up John Aman’s arm, covering both him and Cage completely. For the tick of a second, in the space between moments, when the entire planet is held still, the three men were joined.
Then the built-up power burst like a bulging bubble and Cage was thrown clear of the Prince of Orphans. The original hired hero was tossed up against his black Dodge Charger, slamming into the driver’s side door, causing the door to buckle inward. He slid to the asphalt and watched the scene unfold before him.
John Aman was lifted a few feet off the ground, his right arm held aloft, which seemingly dragged him upward. His legs kicked at nothing, trying to gain some shift in momentum to free himself. His left hand clawed at his right arm, like he was trying to scrape away the energy of the Iron Fist.
Cage felt pressure against his diamond-hard skin, like he had been thrown into a vacuum. Aman screeched something in a language that Cage didn’t recognize, and then a flash of light enveloped the entire parking lot.
Luke shielded his eyes from the blinding light and when the pressure relented the light died down as well. He blinked a few times and then focused on a crouching man that looked to be shivering. It was Danny, golden hair and black dragon chest tattoo and all.
“Danny!” Luke exclaimed as he ran across the parking lot to join his friend. He placed his hand on Danny’s shoulder, but his friend flinched and pulled away.
Daniel Rand looked like a broken man. His entire body was shaking, although it was barely cold at all there in the parking lot. His glanced up at Cage but couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact for some reason. His right arm glowed faintly, reeking of mystic energy. Danny held his right forearm with his left hand, as if bracing it. The fingers in his right hand were rigid and looked like they were in pain.
“Luke,” Danny finally muttered. “Stand back.”
“What the sweet Christmas is going on?” Luke demanded, but he heeded his friend’s wishes and took three steps backward.
“I’m…” Danny cleared his throat and closed his eyes. “I’m not entirely sure. I…I need to…”
Then he promptly passed out and fell to the cold, hard, unforgiving asphalt.
# # # # #
“I don’t care what the reports say,” Agent Travers said as he faced the large screen plastering the wall of his office. “The Vault is not providing accurate inmate information. Given their recent troubles I severely doubt that we can place any trust in our inside man.”
The screen held the faces of three of the top brass at the Commission on Superhuman Activity. They looked displeased.
“Our woman on the inside,” the central figure, a red-haired woman, said.
“Yes, woman on the inside,” Travers said dismissively. “Regardless, we have no idea of what their current status truly reflects. We need to take control of the facility completely, as opposed to this half-assed coup you initiated.”
“James Rhodes has proven himself capable of remaining independent of Commission control,” one of the other talking heads shot back at him. “If it wasn’t for him—”
“Yes, Doctor Octavius would undoubtedly still be using the Vault as his private base of operations, complete with an army of supervillains. I know your argument. What I’m saying is that we can’t trust that Rhodes is releasing all of the available data to us.”
“Perhaps if you weren’t sidetracked with this side project of yours you would be able to know for sure if our intelligence from the Vault is accurate.”
Travers smirked and reached for a cigarette. “Side project? Yes. Well. That’s providing several dividends that will prove useful in the coming future.”
Something on the corner of his desk moved and caught his eye, causing his smirk to widen into a full grin.
“In fact, I have to give that side project a little attention at the moment. Thank you, everyone.”
Before his three superiors could voice their discontent, Travers cut off the teleconference, stuffed the cigarette into his mouth, and plopped down into his leather desk chair. He leered at a glass bottle on the end of his desk, leaning closer toward it to get a better look at what had caught his eye previously.
“Hello, John,” Travers said just before lighting up.
The bottle was filled with green smoke, which slowly began to dissipate. Revealed behind the cloud was the green-cloaked visage of the Prince of Orphans. He slammed his fists against the translucent glass, but to no avail. He looked like he was shouting, but no sound came out of the capped bottle.
“Got the better of you, did he?” Travers asked. “I thought he might, but I’m a little disappointed that it happened so quickly. I assumed that the Prince of Orphans could handle Luke Cage. Or was it Daniel Rand that sent you back to me?”
John Aman’s face was filled with fury, but he finally settled down enough to refrain from bashing uselessly against the inside of the bottle.
“I sent Luke Cage on a mission to kill Daniel Rand,” Travers said. “You were supposed to kill Rand, and then kill Cage when he showed up. If my subliminal programming with Cage had the pair kill one another before you happened along, then so be it, and you were to take out the victor of their brawl. But it seems like all of this was just a waste of time…or was it?”
Aman turned his gaze elsewhere, not wishing to match his eyes to Travers’.
Agent Travers slapped the table with glee. “Sonofabitch! You did it, didn’t you? Show it to me.”
With obvious reluctance the Prince of Orphans parted his cloak and held out his right arm. He concentrated for a moment and then a spark of energy ruptured outward, solidifying into a white blade with a dragon head at the base of the pommel.
The Blade of the Dragon, a sacred instrument of death forged in the heart of the mystic city, K’un Lun. The very weapon that Daniel Rand had been determined to detach from his chi to save his life.
“Fantastic,” Travers said. “So, my intel on Stephen Strange was correct. Our wondrous Sorcerer Supreme sent Rand to the Florida everglades to seek help, and the Nexus of Realities sent Rand to you in turn. What did you do, tell him you would train him or something?”
With a swirl of movement the sword vanished and John Aman allowed the folds of his cloak to cover his personage once more. He remained silent.
“Yes, all of you kung fu guys say garbage like that at one point or another,” Travers continued. “I don’t know how you extracted it from him, but you did it. You did it. That takes us one step closer to reaching our mutual goals, my friend. A shame that they’re still alive, though. Cage and Rand, I mean. They are still alive, I assume, since you’re here on my desk and not bashing down my door trying to kill me.”
Travers puffed out a discolored cloud of smoke and stood up. He cracked the joints in his fingers by flexing them, and then took another long drag of his cigarette. He turned away from the desk, still addressing the Prince of Orphans.
“It doesn’t matter. Cage and Rand will never trace you to this location, and they have no idea of my involvement. Still…they’ve proven themselves resourceful. It’s best to clean up your mess before it has the chance to become problematic. There’s someone else close to them I’ve been thinking of employing. Perhaps it’s time to take the next step and clean up your failure.”
Travers departed the office, leaving the Prince of Orphans to his own devises. Even if Aman could have made himself heard, he wouldn’t have told Travers that upon being expelled from Daniel Rand’s body that he had been connected to both Rand and Cage.
And that connection had revealed more than Travers would be comfortable with.
# # # # #
“Drink this,” Cage said.
Back in his hotel room, Luke had finally been able to get Danny to come around. Sprawled out on the single bed, Danny slowly sat up and accepted the cup of cold tap water that Luke had brought him. It tasted good and he was thankful for the refreshment, which did a lot to wake him up fully.
“Thanks, Luke,” Danny said.
“Don’t thank me, bro. You’ve saved my butt dozens of times before. All I did was shake hands with the bad guy. What happened back there?”
“It’s kind of hard to explain.”
“Try me.”
Danny smiled and took in a deep breath before beginning. “Doctor Strange sent me to Florida in seek of someone that could help me disconnect my chi from the Blade of the Dragon. I came across some kind of portal that brought me to John Aman.”
“The guy in the parking lot.”
“Yeah, him. He’s bad news, Luke. He merged with me somehow…I’m not familiar with the technique he used, but it was similar to the ceremony I went through to gain the power of the Iron Fist.”
“Wait a hot second,” Cage said. “You told me you got those power by punching a dragon in the heart.”
Danny nodded. “Yep. Hurt like hell when Aman did it to me. When he did we connected he merged with the blade, and when I cast him out he took it with him.”
“What? Seriously? So…you’re cured?”
Danny smiled. “You could say that. My chi is back in balance again.”
Luke picked Danny up in a huge bear hug, lifting him off the small bed. He spun him around and quickly deposited him back down again once he realized his childish he was acting. Recomposing himself, Luke slapped Danny on the back and just beamed at him.
“I mean…that’s cool, bro,” Luke muttered.
“Thanks, Luke. I appreciate it. Without your help I wouldn’t have been able to cast out Aman and take back my body. When you grabbed his hand, I was able to use your strength to merge the chi of all three of us. Then I kicked Aman out of the loop and he lost control. He sought you out because I was fighting him from the inside, and he knew that my connection to you would be my undoing. Thus, he came after you before I could give him the boot.”
“Good riddance.”
Danny shook his head. “I thought we would just be split apart, but someone is pulling his strings, Luke. He wasn’t just cast out, he was ripped. Someone has him in their power.”
“Which means they have the blade in their power now, too.”
“Exactly. Plus, there’s more. You were sent to kill me, Luke.”
“What?”
“When I connected our chi, I got a look inside your head. Someone’s been screwing with your memories, Luke. You were attacked back in Chicago and then a subliminal suggestion was planted in your brain to seek me out and kill me. I disabled the suggestion when we were connected.”
Luke crossed his arms over his massive chest and leaned back against the ratty lounge chair in the hotel room. He twisted his neck to try and relieve the building tension in his shoulders, but it didn’t help. He hated being controlled, more than he hated just about anything else.
It harkened back to being wrongly accused, set up, imprisoned, and fleeing the authorities that wanted to lock him back up again. It had taken a long time to get out from under that injustice, which in his mind, was all a form of control.
“You get a name along with those memories?” Luke finally asked.
Danny stood up and nodded. “Travers. Agent Travers of the Commission for Superhuman Activity.”
“Then I guess we know where our story goes next, huh?”
# # # # #
TO BE CONTINUED
It’s been awhile since I finished a fanfic issue. Years, actually. I’ve been mainly focused on freelance writing and audio production, along with my day job, my growing family, and other hobbies. It feels good to finally finish this issue of Power Man & Iron Fist, especially because I started writing it over a year ago.
Cory pointed out to me that the message board was blowing up recently, which intrigued me. M2K has always been the site that never dies, and it certainly seems the case. A few new writers have joined the group and some old favorites are active again.
Can we regain our former glory as a leader in the fanfic realm? Undoubtedly. When I was EiC I recall having around 30-some issues as surplus for releases. Let’s build that up again!
What you’re going to see in the next series of adventures for our kung fu cowboy and the man who can bench press a bus:
- Batroc the Leaper will hit our boys while on the job!
- Why does the Prince of Orphans want to control a certain mystic city?
- Who is Agent Travers and what is his goal?
- A blast from Luke’s past comes calling, changing his life forever.
- Guest heroes, guest villains, and guest writers!
Thanks for reading!
-D. Golightly
10/12/2014