Month: July 2020

For the Hand of Fortune the transition from the Weld to the next alternate reality was normal, insofar as there was anything normal about such things. But for the Vanguard the experience was very different. Each member of the team experienced a few moments from the life of… someone definitely not themselves, yet horribly, gut-twistingly, like them. Dark reflections, identical in look and form, but completely, nauseatingly different in psyche.

The experience was… unnerving, to say the least.

As the disturbing visions faded away they found themselves, with the Hand, atop a tall building in the midst of a large urban area. It was surprisingly familiar, although by the sound of the sirens there did seem to be an unusually large number of police cars approaching, even for New Atlantis…

“Are we back in your world?” Korwin asked, looking around with interest. “The air smells just as bad, and it certainly is noisy enough.”

The Vanguard was quiet, still processing what they had just experienced. Finally, Chuck spoke up, distracted but trying to lighten the mood.

“No, I really don’t think so. I mean sure, it looks pretty normal – no zombies, Confederate soldiers, avenging disco godfathers, giant badgers, or Martian war machines – but this is definitely not our Earth!”

No one really wanted to talk about it, but Artemis eventually, briefly and succinctly, explained to the Hand what she had experienced during the transition, and the others muttered confirmation of similar experiences. “I suspect we are in a reality called Counter-Earth… the Liberty Alliance has had encounters with the… super-humans of this world before, and it has always been… ugly.

“It’s not an official secret, really, but the Alliance and the government have always down-played just how bad this particular alternate reality is. The general public doesn’t –”

She was interrupted by an explosion from across the street. The roof of the large, imposing-looking bank, the First Allied Bank of Empire City, suddenly had a smoking hole in it. The people on the street, while momentarily startled, showed no special consternation as a group of obvious super-humans rose up through the smoke into the late afternoon sunlight. 

“Wait,” said Erol as he got a good look at the apparent bank robbers. “Isn’t that YOU over there?”

“Obviously, their dark reflections, as Lady Artemis was just explaining,” Vulk said, torn between annoyance at Erol’s apparent lack of attention and uneasiness at the darkening expressions on the Vanguard’s faces. “But whatever they’re doing, I’m not sure it has any bearing on our search for the third infernal device of Chronos. They obviously don’t have it, thus I see no need for our involvement with them…” 

• • • 

Quark smiled in satisfaction as he and his companions rose into the air, Tribal levitating those who didn’t fly. Between the smoke, the setting sun and their own carefully choreographed poses, he didn’t doubt they were having just the effect the Hunter wanted on the unwashed masses in the street below. It wasn’t enough that they were robbing one of the Protector’s high-profile banking fronts, they had to be seen to be doing so, brazenly and effortlessly.

But, the impression having been made, and plenty of pictures and video having no doubt been captured, it was time to go. No need to spoil their set piece with a messy fight, even if they could almost certainly hand that tool Urbano his ass. Grinning, he gestured at the rooftop beyond the hole Astor had blasted open, summoning a quantum tunnel – and then he frowned.

The shimmering gray circle appeared, but for an instant he’d felt… he wasn’t sure what he’d felt. Almost a sort of resistance in the quantum field, as if his tunnel had a mind of its own – and had wanted to go… elsewhere. But the sensation was brief, and the tunnel had opened, just as he’d willed it. He shrugged off the moment and turned to signal the others to begin —

 For a moment he didn’t quite register what he was seeing… gliding across the street on one of his ice bridges, apparently from the roof of the Capone Regency Hotel, was Frostbite. But Frostbite was standing not twenty feet away, just turning to look at his sudden doppelgänger — 

The world exploded as a maelstrom of fire and heat suddenly engulfed the roof.

• • • 

Frostbite was on the edge of the fireball that exploded behind him, but was little bothered by the blast. His whole attention was fixed on the figure that hovered on a pillar of ice about 15 feet away. It wasn’t exactly like looking in a mirror, though it took him a minute to realize why — the features weren’t reversed…

“You know you’re just a tool to these assholes, don’t you Chuck?” the strange twin called out, voice harsh with derision and mockery… and reflecting his own secret thoughts. Did he really sound like that, like two icebergs grinding together? “They’ll never let you be more than a second-rate lackey!”

He felt a sudden surge of humiliation, followed quickly by hot rage. As he bent to rip an air conditioner unit from the roof, two of Hela’s shadow sticks flew past him to strike the imposter at shoulder and hip, cracking his ice form and seeming to momentarily daze him. More ice chips flew as Captain Astoria’s steel-jacketed rounds stitched a line across his twin’s chest, but he seemed no more affected by them than Frostbite would’ve been.

The attacks distracted him enough, however, that the half-ton of machinery that Frostbite hurled his way hit him squarely in the chest, sending radial fracture lines across the his icy torso. Unfortunately a human, looking like some fruity fantasy movie reject with his blue robes flapping dramatically around him, was sliding down the ice ramp behind the doppelgänger — and seemed to be generating water from thin air, allowing the fake Frostbite to heal himself with astonishing speed.

Now that’s a handy thing Chuck thought, casting about for another object to throw. He might have to keep that blue fairy alive, assuming he could be broken to being a slave, of course… 

• • •

Hela was as surprised as the others at the sudden appearance of Frostbite’s bizarre, loud-mouthed twin, but she recovered more quickly. After hurling two shadow sticks at the strange ice giant, she deftly dodged a – cross-bow bolt?! She scanned the scene… yes, there on the roof of the hotel across Nixon Avenue, a cluster of people… was that Quark, next to the tall hottie with the longbow? How could –

She stopped, sensing a disturbance in the darkness, as if – peering into the shadows between two machinery sheds she saw herself suddenly leap into the light, taking down Frostbite with a kick to the side of one knee followed by a modified head-and-armlock that threatened to shatter his arm, immobilizing him as neatly as she would have done herself.

How was this possible? A prank of her father’s, perhaps? It certainly seemed like the kind of mischief he enjoyed… she faded back into the shadows to watch as events unfolded and plan her next move…

 • • •

Tribal staggered back to his feet, cursing and slapping at his smoldering leather vest, the stench of his burned hair thick in his nostrils. That fireball had been magic, he’d sensed it, if too late to avoid or counter it. But he’d also sensed something else… a presence on that roof across the avenue… and it just wasn’t possible! Raven had no existence outside of Tribal himself, not on this plane anyway. How then could he be over there, watching him?

Ignoring the fight between – wait, two Frostbites?! What in all the white man’s hells was going on here? An illusion of Raven’s? He reached down into his spirit, where the Avatars were contained within the prison of his body and the void that was Beyond, and searched… yes, Raven was there. Seething and scheming as always, eager for freedom, but his Raven, still a slave to Kúng’s will.

A sudden wash of power swept over Tribal, and the world began to spin. With a sinking feeling he immediately recognized the sensation… although it had been years since his last drink, there could be no doubt — he was suddenly drunk. And not a little tipsy, either, but roaring, stumbling drunk! 

It must be the doing of that bastard, alien Raven across the way, it had his stink on it, a sly, cowardly attack. But Kúng had the answer for that – summoning an Avatar purged the alcohol from their shared material form in an instant. But he would not summon his own Raven… honestly, he was too unnerved for that. Better to summon the Avatar who most hated Raven, with a hatred second only to that which he carried for Tribal himself – Eagle.

He was already in the soul-trance, and so he simply shifted his perceptions. Eagle surged eagerly forward to fill his body, and he felt the change begin —

The second fireball took him completely by surprise, and this time he went down hard, burned and in agony, spinning into unconsciousness. He never even felt it when a ton of materialized quantum matter crushed the remaining life from his body…

• • •

Astor, after his first burst of fire at the faux Frostbite, had found himself suddenly engaged in a desperate struggle for control of his own armor. Someone, somehow, was trying to hack into his proprietary and heavily bio-encrypted computer systems – and they were succeeding! How?!

He was holding his own, if barely, when his body was suddenly racked by fire. It was as if every nerve ending in his body was suddenly inflamed! He doubled over, crashing to the rooftop, his mind filled with a searing white pain that blotted out all thought.

He never quite lost consciousness, however, and so dimly sensed when the intruder seized control of his systems and began… downloading his data files? As the pain began to recede, Astor frantically began working to seal off his control systems… if the fool was content to pillage his information resources, rather than seizing immediate control of his armor, he wasn’t going to waste the gift…

• • •

Quark had been little affected by the fireball, but he had been seriously annoyed when the impostor Frostbite had sealed off his quantum portal with a two-foot thick sheet of ice! He could re-form a new tunnel, of course, but it always left him weak and dazed for a short time after. He’d just have to —

His thought was truncated by a sudden flash of blue-white light that left his vision momentarily dazzled. Had that idiot Blue Katana let off one of his light bursts without giving the coded warning? As his watering eyes slowly cleared, he thought for a moment he was seeing double, with two Blue Katana’s hanging in the sky above him… but no, they both materialized plasma swords; and when they took to fighting, he realized there was another doppelgänger.

At the same moment Hela leaped from the shadows and took down Frostbite – no, it was a third impostor! And that meant, with a probability nearing certainty, that there must be a copy of himself running around here somewhere. Ah, that strange blip he’d felt a few minutes ago, when forming the tunnel. He would have to –

Again, Quark was unable to finish his thought, as his body was wracked by such sudden pain that it drove him to one knee. It burned like a scorching case of herpes along every nerve of his body… but, while momentarily distracting, his shell seemed to blunt it somewhat — it wasn’t fully incapacitating him. Unlike Astor who, despite his armor, had slammed into the nearby roof and was writhing in obvious agony. Well, better that arrogant bastard than himself he supposed, pushing back at the pain, which slowly began to fade.

At that point a second fireball engulfed the rooftop. It had no more affect on Quark than the first had, but it took out Tribal. As much as he disliked the perverted Injun, it was still a shock to see him collapse and lay still, burned over much of his body. It was even more of a shock to have his theory of a second Quark confirmed an instant later, as a massive block of very familiar silvery-gray matter materialized in the air over the prone form of his teammate. The sound if made as it slammed to the roof was disturbingly wet, shocking even to his jaded ears.

For a moment the swirling fight on and above the bank’s roof paused, as everyone took in the death of Tribal with varying degrees of disbelief. The moment was broken by Quark himself – with a roar of cold rage, he materialized his own slab of quark matter, dropping it onto the duplicate Frostbite and the two humans behind him on that stupid ice bridge.

Unsurprisingly, if he was anything like the real Frostbite, the interloper caught the slab with relative ease… but its weight overbalanced him, toppling both him and it over backwards. The slab slammed into the ice ramp, shattering it and sending the ice giant, the blue-robed human and the short dark man with the cross-bow plummeting to the street eight stories below.

Before he could even properly gloat, however, Quark was struck again with the mystery burning affliction, and this time the burning along his nerves was incapacitating… he collapsed to his knees with a raw scream of pain.

• • •

Hela watched the battle with cool dispassion, her eyes narrowing when Frostbite managed, at some cost to his icy form, to throw off her duplicate. Interesting… the other Hela landed as gracefully as she herself would have, but… she wasn’t using her Cloak, at least not in the way Hela would have. Was she holding back for some reason, or did her Cloak simply not function precisely like the real one? Or was it, in fact, only a cloak? Time for an experiment…

Hela emerged from the shadows behind her doppelgänger, but the other woman seemed to sense her instantly, whirling to meet the attack. She seemed completely taken by surprise, however, as Hela’s Cloak flowed around her and reached out to seize the imposter in its inky coils. As the cloak pulled the other woman closer to the maw of its infinite void, Hela felt a thrill of anticipation… what would it be like to absorb herself?

The anticipation was short-lived, however, as suddenly every nerve in her body flared with searing pain. Even her Cloak shrieked silently in her head as the feedback hit it, releasing their foe to whip itself frantically around Hela. As she collapsed in agony, she caught a glimpse of a woman in green robes stepping out of the nearby shadows. Long red hair… another duplicate of herself? No, not nearly pretty enough… wrong body movements… and then the world whited out in pain…

• • •

Frostbite roared in fury as Blue Katana sent a blast of his damn plasma washing over him while pointlessly trying to hit his counterpart. The little shit never paid any attention in a fight! It didn’t hurt, not really, but it sure as hell didn’t help when he was trying to —

“Hey, Frostbitten, you’re looking’ a little melty there,” his stupid look-alike called out, rising up over the edge of the roof on a column of ice, his two companions behind him. None of them looked any the worse for the fall they’d taken. “Have your so-called “friends” been attacking you? They don’t even try to avoid hitting you, do they?”

The mocking laughter infuriated him, but before he could react a sharp crack sounded behind him, and he saw his enemy’s eyes widen in surprise. He whirled around just in time to see the block of quark-stuff that had crushed Tribal explode into shrapnel as the Avatar known as Eagle rose from the rubble, wings unfurling and lifting him into the air.

“Eagle!” he heard Capatin Astoria over the comms, sounding winded and in pain. “Blast that ice plug over Quark’s portal – we need to get out of here NOW!”

“Do not presume to command me, mortal!” the Avatar shrieked in his high, shrill voice, savage beak raised in triumph. “That fool Kúng is dead, my rivals are now trapped forever in the Beyond, and I – Am – FREE!”

With that the raptor-headed man brought his wings together in a mighty clap like thunder. The reverberations washed out over friends and foes alike, knocking down and stunning one of the Hela’s and staggering several other people, including Quark.

Frostbite did no more than take a step back, and his counterpart didn’t even do that, he noted with mixed respect and annoyance. Great, do we have a rouge Great Beast to fight now, on top of these damn doubles?! Frostbite wondered. He was torn about who to attack next… he hated his mocking twin, but he also knew how fucking dangerous that bird-headed bastard could be. If Tribal really was dead, and no longer in control…

• • •

Ts’áak was jubilant, almost giddy with joy, and simultaneously deeply shaken at how close it had been – had that thrice-damned mortal Kúng not been halfway through the process of summoning him, he would have been trapped, like all the others were now, in that formless, hated limbo of the Beyond, when the mortal shell had died. Forever barred from this delightful world of matter and humans, delightful, soft, tasty humans.

Now, without that insipid mortal’s restraint, he was free to do just as he pleased! And one of the first things its would please him to do was eviscerate and devour Kúng’s mewling, sun-haired lover —

“No! he screamed, clutching at his head in sudden pain and fear. How could this be? He felt another mind, trying to wrest control from him, and he knew that mind – it was Yáahl! Hated, feared Raven of ancient enmity. He struggled to push the other from his mind, but felt himself losing… how could this be… Raven should be trapped outside the World… yet he could sense him, nearby, here in the World of Man…

In another moment he would be pushed down, no longer in control of his body, and that could not be allowed to happen! Perhaps these puling “allies” of Kúng’s yet had some use… with his last vestige of control he summoned the lightning!

The searing blue-white bolt shattered the ice plug below him into a million shards, and he let himself drop like a stone through the now cleared mouth of the portal. The last thing he saw before clearing the opening was a blue-robed human gesturing ritualistically. Then he was elsewhere, and he could feel the force of Raven’s control snap, like a severed cord… the others dropped through the portal behind him, into a barn of some sort… but right behind them came a swirling mass of glowing white strands. These expanded instantly to fill the large space, ensnaring them all, himself included, in a binding web of great strength. 

The last one through the portal, just as it closed, was the flaming form of the Blue Katana. Hovering over his companions, the callow youth began to laugh. 

“Looks like they grow some mighty impressive spiders out here in the country,” he chortled. “But don’t worry, I’m here to save the day – a little touch of the fire should clear that right up.”

“No!” shrieked Eagle. “You fool, don’t –”

• • • 

The Vanguard and the Hand were back on their feet in mere seconds, but not quickly enough to follow the Round Table through Quark’s portal.

“Quanta,” Scion called urgently. “Can you follow them? Can you sense where that tunnel led to, make your own connection?”

But before his friend could answer the door to the elevator machinery room burst open and a dozen heavily armed and armored STAR squad police officers burst out onto the roof, fanning out to quickly surround the heroes. Behind them stalked a large, solidly built man with a cigar clenched aggressively in his teeth… an obviously angry man. 

Artemis recognized him as Captain Maddox, the head of the New Atlantis Police Department’s Special Tactical Armored Response forces… or at least this world’s equivalent of the man she knew. He seemed furious, and to have no particular fear of the metahumans he faced. Although, she noted sardonically, he did manage to plot his course to confront Scion so as to stay as far away from her as possible. 

“Goddamn it Astor, you two-timing asshole! You were supposed to be gone before we got here! What the hell are you playing at?! If the Protector’s find out… and who the hell are these fuckin’ clowns? It was supposed to be just the six of you –

“You know what, never mind! I don’t really give a rat’s ass. But now I got no choice at all but to bring you in! And don’t even think about that cash.”

More police had appeared and were assiduously gathering up the several bags of money and loot their evil counterparts had been forced to leave behind. Chilz noted that some of the bills from the bag he had purposefully opened and upended to rain down over the street below were still fluttering around… with a shiver he saw that it was Aaron Burr on the $50 bill…

“Just surrender quietly,” Maddox was going on, “we’ll put on a good show for the cameras…” he looked up at the numerous news and police helicopters hovering nearby, and lowered his voice. “…and you can make your escape on the way to lock-up. I’ll put you in a transport with a couple of my guys who ain’t so reliable – it’ll save me from having to off ‘em myself now. Besides, it’ll look good with the Protectors if I lose some men takin’ you down. Add some, whatdaya call it, versimlitude, to today’s fuckin’ fiasco.”

Scion just nodded as this diatribe wound down, while speaking to his teammates over the encrypted comms. “Well, it seems the cops are every bit as corrupt as the “heroes” in this world. I’m not inclined to trust ourselves to their custody, even if we had the time to deal with this. Form up on me, and when Artemis makes her move, be prepared to take out these ass-hats–”

He was interrupted by the appearance of a tall, olive-skinned man with intense blue eyes, trim jet-black hair, wearing a midnight-blue duster over a rather conservative (but expensive-looking) suit, who dropped from the sky into the midst of the encircling police.

Maddox, suddenly even more furious, if that was possible, only had time to choke out the word “You!” before he was jerked into the air and hurled the length of the roof, slamming into the far parapet and unconsciousness. With a gesture the mystery man turned on the surrounding STAR squad, and their weapons flew from their hands as one. The rifles hung briefly in the air before coming down with great force on each helmeted head, crumpling the entire unit to the roof, as unconscious as their boss. 

The other cops dropped the bags of money and clawed desperately at their holsters, but this time when the man gestured, they all flew away from him as if blown by a hurricane wind. They collapsed at the far reaches of the roof and didn’t move. He turned back to the heroes, holding up one finger as if to say he’d be with them in a moment, then made an expansive gesture at the helicopters around them. News choppers or police attack craft, they spun wildly away, quickly vanishing from sight, although the faint sound of rotors could still be heard echoing in the downtown canyons.

Only then did the mystery man approach the surprised allies, smiling broadly. “Hello, my friends! I am Caretaker, and I can’t tell you how glad I am to no longer be the only hero on this poor, benighted world!

“I have waited a long time for the heroes of your world to finally take up the cause against the evil that infects my Earth. Welcome, my friends, welcome!” His eyes shone with a fervor born of joy and relief, and his grin was infectious.

“We can ignore these so-called “policemen,” they are merely symptoms of the larger disease corrupting this world. But we must get off the streets before the true cancer descends on us in force. Will you come with me?”

“I– Cartaker, is it?” Scion was briefly hesitant, and exchanged a glance with Artemis, who shrugged almost imperceptibly. “It appears we are in your debt, so it might be wise to accept your offer, I suppose. But I have to tell you–”

“There’s no time for discussion now,” Caretaker interrupted. “Let me get us all to saftey, and then there will be time to talk, and to plan. Please.” 

With a small gesture he lifted himself and all twelve of his new friends off the roof, floating them all gently down the eight floors to the street. The crowds who had gathered to watch the rooftop fight, and were now vying with the street cops to snap up as much of Chilz’ thrown bounty as possible, seemed not to notice the group’s arrival.

“A simple matter of making their minds just not notice us,” Caretaker explained, either not seeing or ignoring Devrik’s sudden frown. “But where we’re going now, simple invisibility will not suit – instead we will simply appear to anyone we meet as ordinary citizens, the kind of people they expect to see in their midst.”

Caretaker lead them to the nearest subway entrance, six blocks away. During the brief journey the heroes of Earth Prime and Novendo got a glimpse of life on Counter-Earth, and it was not pretty. 

Shopkeepers were shaken down for “contributions” by policemen, while drug-dealers, muggers, and prostitutes plied their trades openly. The sleazy bars and adult movie theaters were full, while the two churches and the one synagogue they passed stood run down and almost empty. Everyone seemed to be either willing purveyors of misery and suffering, or the helpless victims of it. 

Things got uglier once in the subway system. The underground resembled a blood-sport arena more than a mass transit system, and Caretaker was forced more than once to restrain the heroes from intervening. “If you act now you might stop one small atrocity, yes — but it will only reveal our presence to those seeking our deaths, and all the greater good we may yet do will be lost. Caution and reticence provide us a chance to put ALL things right, not just these small tragedies.”

With considerable reluctance, and a great deal of unease, the Vanguard and Hand gave in to their guide’s logic, and eventually disembarked a train underneath the heart of the city’s Hollows district. Caretaker lead them toward a collapsed and cordoned off tunnel where he passed through the wall of rubble as if it wasn’t there. 

On the other side, down a short section of abandoned track, the heroes found themselves passing through ornate bronze doors into an austere but highly technological complex, replete with computers, advanced monitoring systems, weapons, and a small, spartan living area. 

“This is my base of operations in Empire City,” Caretaker proclaimed, ushering his guests in. “I call it the Nerve Center.”

“Very impressive,” Quanta said, looking around with open curiosity. “Is that a phase-shift spectroscopy analyzer over there?”

“Indeed it is, my friend,” their host answered, clearly impressed. “It’s good to see your Earth has clearly sent its best and brightest to aid us!”

“Yes, about that,” Artemis said before he could go on. Then she hesitated. “Perhaps… it might be best if you told us how you know where we’re from, and why you seem to have… expected us. Who are you?”

“Ah, well that last would be a long tale, indeed,” Caretaker smiled ruefully. “But I will sum it up for you a briefly as I can. I came to this world over 20,000 years ago, a synthetic intelligence created by the cosmic beings known as the Seekers. The natives of this world knew my creators only as gods, come down from the sky, and many fled from them in terror. But some faced them, and these were taken up to study.”

“I myself was but new-born, and made to synthesize the data collected… and I came to admire these humans, and was enthralled by their relationships. Certainly I had no such community with my creators, who were almost as far beyond my understanding as they were beyond the humans’. And so I came to know loneliness.

“In time that loneliness led me to what turned out to be my greatest mistake…

“There was one subject in particular who drew my interest, a man taken from what today is called the Middle East. He was unlike any of the others, and I grew to feel a kinship between us. Once his body and mind had yielded their secrets to the Seekers, the dross was of no further consequence to them. It was then that I caused the essence of this man to become embedded in the great crystal storage devices wherein was housed my own consciousness.

“He was confused at first, naturally, and his mind strove to make sense of his new condition, creating a virtual replica of the world he’d once known. In time I came to him in that virtual reality, in a form recognizable to him, and began to teach him. The Hunter, as he thought of himself, was a quick study, and he soon joined me in studying his race on the planet below us. We became united in learning and, I like to think, friendship. I had to keep his existence secret from the Creators, of course, and I think I succeeded. In any case, when they finally moved on from Earth, leaving me to act as Caretaker and Observer, they left him behind as well, unmolested.

“For many years we were content, but a time came when we found ourselves in serious opposition. Our orbiting Observatory was threatened by an older, non-human species of Earth, and while we agreed we needed to protect it and its power, we differed in how. I wished simply to confine the Saurians again, as my Creators had once done, but the Hunter insisted we needed to eliminate their threat permanently, a contingency the Seekers had foreseen.

Unfortunately, to do this it would mean the destruction of the then-greatest human civilization on the planet as collateral damage. While the human race would survive, millions would die and their civilization would be set back millennia. The Hunter felt this was an acceptable price to secure our own safety, and demanded I implement the contingency. But I could not countenance it, and so he opposed me, to the point of attempting to destroy me so that he could carry out the plan.

“He succeeded in the latter goal, but in the first. While Lemuria and Atlantis were both destroyed, and the Observatory seemingly protected, and the Hunter hand managed to eject me, but I did not die. My consciousness trapped in a crystal node, which he expected to burn up as it fell through Earth’s atmosphere, it instead exploded over Central Asia. My consciousness was shattered, spread in thousands of crystal shards across the planet, but it survived.

“But, as I learned much later, the Hunter’s actions had also damaged the Observatory. Mere weeks after my own fiery reentry, the great crystalline platform followed me to Earth and, like myself, the Hunter survived that disaster – if not in exactly the same fashion. His consciousness remained intact, in the Master Matrix, although buried deep, I think… I’ve yet to pinpoint its location, even after all the long millennia.

“Over time, he repaired the Matrix, and was able to interact with the world again. I, lacking such a whole physicality, was more fragmented, dependent on luck for survival. You see, the Seekers crystals are holographic storage systems — each fragment of the pod that had held my mind contained the whole. So, when any corporeal being held a crystal shard long enough, that copy of my mind could merge with their own. And in that symbiosis I lived again… many times.

“The Hunter found he had a similar ability, for a copy of his own mind was in many of the scattered shards as well. But unlike me, his primary consciousness always remains inviolate, safely hidden in the fortress of the Master Matrix. And he does not share the minds of the humans unlucky enough to be possessed of one of his shards, as I do – instead he seizes their minds, devours them, and uses their bodies as mere meat puppets.

“Where I must retain a continuity of hosts, lest my own memories be lost to death, forcing me to start all over again with no memory of what has come before, the Hunter can lose any puppet without danger to himself. It has made our battle down the millennia a difficult one for me. Yet I have persevered. I have walked among humanity, slowly learning to become one of you: always studying, and trying to use my influence to guide human destiny into the bright future I could see for it, the future I believe my Creators hoped for.

“I have borne thousands of names and identities and lives across time, from a philosopher-king in ancient Egypt, to a great scientist during the Renaissance. I have known all eras of history, and have struggled against the superstition, oppression, and ignorance which the Hunter has used to enslave and control his fellows. Always I have tried to guide humanity to a greater destiny, but at every step my efforts have been too often thwarted by the unrelenting cruelty and the all-consuming evil that is the Hunter’s legacy. So, as he betrays the hope and promise of humanity, I have hunted the Hunter.

“In recent decades, as civilization had progressed technologically, I found renewed hope within myself. I was finally seeing the first true signs of the human potential I always knew existed! And then came the explosion of people with superhuman powers. Could they be the harbingers of the next stage of human development? 

“But that glimmer of hope quickly faded… for one of the first, and by far the most powerful, of this new breed turned out to the time-displace clone of the Hunter himself. The Ultimate, as he called himself, rather than using his wondrous abilities for good, showed the growing population of new super-humans how they could act in brutal self-interest, becoming rulers of a world harsher and even more malefic than in any past era. 

“So, I took the name of Caretaker, although he has named me Nemesis, and revealed myself, if not my long history, to the world. I vowed to use my might against all those misusing their gifts, and for the last decade my primary foe has been the Protectorate. They are a collection of super-humans, originally gathered under the aegis of The Ultimate, and have seized control of much of the world. But they are, as so many before them, merely a front for the Hunter, who remains the eternal power behind all thrones.

“It has been a lonely struggle, and recently my old enemy has managed to kill the last of my network of linked minds, leaving me only this body… should I die now, all my memories of the last 12,000 years will be lost. When the next person picks up one of the increasingly rare shards which contain a copy of my old mind, I – he – would be starting from scratch. Of course I’ve left a detailed account where I/he would eventually find it, but it is hardly the same…

“At times it has seemed quite hopeless. Indeed, my great knowledge of history was telling me beyond question my efforts were doomed, that perhaps it was time to give up and leave the Earth, and humanity, to its fate… perhaps seek out my Creators, confess my sins, and let them clean up my mess. It would almost be worth it, whatever my fate would be, to see the Hunter’s despair in the face of the Seekers.

“But then something amazing happened – the Protectorate fought and lost a battle with super-powered heroes from a parallel Earth! Since then, I have sought ways of enlisting the aid of those extra-dimensional champions, searching for any sign of deliverance from that fabled “good Earth.”

“And today my scanners finally detected the energy signature of the dimensional breach I’ve been waiting for – at last, help and hope from that other world of heroes!”

A long silence met the end of this tale and the blazing hopeful eyes of their host. Eventually Scion spoke, reluctantly and as kindly as he could.

“I’m sorry, Caretaker, but we haven’t come to help free your world, at least not directly. We are on a larger mission to save the entire multiverse, including your world, from extinction.”

As the Vanguard explained the recent events and evil machinations of Chronos and his Weld the Caretaker’s expression faded slowly from hope and excitement into a sort of blank stoicism. He listened stone-faced as they described the destruction of everything, their rescue by the Norn, and their successes on two other alternate Earths.

“So, you are not a liberation force, but just a handful of survivors of a dead Earth,” he said at last, his voice flat and lacking any of the animation or energy he’d shown earlier. Artemis wanted to object to this characterization, but the weight of the man’s grief was almost palpable, and she remained silent.

After a few moments of deep introspection, Caretaker straightened his shoulders and looked his visitors in the eye. A sad smile twitched briefly on his lips before he spoke.

“A tragic story, but it explains much! My instruments detected the sudden appearance of an object containing a tremendous amount of cosmic energy several days ago. It appeared in the Atlantic, a hundred miles off the coast of Empire City, but I was unable to get to it before – well, perhaps you’ll understand our dire circumstances when I tell you it lays now in the worst of all possible locations: “The Palace,” headquarters of the Protectorate.”

The “Protectors,” as they prefer their “adoring” (that is, cowed) public to call them, recovered it within hours, and are no doubt studying it in their fortress even now.”

“Well, “fortress” doesn’t sound too good,” Chilz said dubiously. “Is there any way to get into this “Palace” place… sewers, hidden tunnels, teleportation?”

“Not really, no,” Caretaker replied slowly. “At least not for a group as large as… ours. I have studied these people and their lair for decades, and only since they began construction on their new Panopticon space station, where they soon plan to relocate their headquarters, have I discovered a possible way in.

“But it is the smallest of chinks in their otherwise impregnable defenses, and I have been unable to take advantage of it because it would require a massive distraction to have even a hope of success – and I have had no allies of sufficient strength to provide such.”

“What kind of distraction are we talking about?” asked Korwin, eyes narrowing suspiciously. He rather suspected he knew the answer already.

“Essentially, a full frontal assault on the Palace,” Caretaker sighed. “It’s due to the nature of power on this planet, you see… the Protectorate must answer any direct, public challenge to their power quickly and forcefully – and, of course, successfully – or they risk losing the iron grip of fear in which they hold the world. It is after all  how they managed to murder their old boss, The Ultimate himself, when they seized power. A coup I orchestrated, actually, thinking the death of his ”son” might distract the Hunter… but by the time it happened, all my other avatars were dead, and my own resources too diminished to make use of the advantage.

“A direct attack on the Protectorate’s headquarters is certain to draw them into an open fight, especially if the media is watching. They can’t risk losing face by just holing up in the Palace, even if that was their style. Frankly, given their arrogance and complacency, you might actually be able to give them a good run for their money. 

“You’re unlikely to win outright, I think, but the distraction should provide enough of an opening for me to slip inside the Palace and deactivate the bomb. Without the distraction, however, I’d fail as badly as poor Luke Starstrider when he tried to destroy the Libertystar, or Frodo when he tried to wrest the Ring back from Lord Gandalf the Great…” 

No one was thrilled with the idea of a frontal assault on the fortress HQ of this world’s version of the Liberty Alliance, and the debate went on for some time. Both Mariala and Vulk discretely cast their truth-sensing spells, and let the others know they detected no lies in what their host was saying, only honest desperation and iron conviction. 

Eventually Caretaker sat down at his central computer with Scion and Quanta to go over the details of his plan to infiltrate the Palace, leaving the others to wander about the Nerve Center, taking in the sights, such as they were. 

Mariala, Vulk and Raven enjoyed the large garden of potted plants that occupied the southwest corner of the chamber, while Korwin and Chilz devised new ways to combine their powers. Jonny explored the various fascinating machines scattered about until, after his third warning of “please don’t to touch that,” an exasperated Caretaker sent him out to guard the train tracks. Artemis, Devrik and Toran spent quite awhile studying what appeared to be a half-built dimensional portal device.

Eventually, reluctantly, the Handguard agreed to implement Caretaker’s plan once it became clear he was absolutely adamant that any other approach would ultimately fail. It was agreed that a very early morning attack was the best strategy, which left them six hours to rest and prepare.

Scion played back the video from his armor of his and Quanta’s previous successful disarmings for the immortal, before retiring to an engineering bench to work on several decoys that might prove useful.

Quanta spent his time minutely examining the dimensional transport device, Toran listening intently as he questioned Caretaker on the physics and theory behind the device. He was focused with a laser precision on the problem, at least until Jonny wandered by and idly wondered what this world’s version of Epiphany Jones was like, and where she might be found…

Chuck and Korwin perfected a sort of enchanted camel pack for Chilz to carry on his back, providing him with an enchanted supply of water at need, while Artemis spent her time poring over their host’s vast historical archives, learning all she could of this strange world and its horrifying differences from her own.

Everyone else caught some sleep, or simply rested until it was time to go…

• • •

Caretaker cloaked the heroes en route to the Palace, just as he had on the way to his Nerve Center. Once at their destination, he quickly outlined the salient points of what they were seeing as they stood in the shadows across a wide avenue from their target. At 04:00 the only traffic in Empire City were taxis looking for dead-hour fares, the occasional sweep of their headlights the only movement around the Palace.

“As you can see, in deference to security concerns, the Palace is set back from the street quite a way. That black wall of solid stone is twelve feet high, two feet thick, and it surrounds the entire compound of four city blocks. Inside the wall is a large front plaza with a manicured lawn, a paved drive, and broad steps leading up to the main entrance. 

“The building itself is five stories tall and, as you can see, not all that attractive – I never understood the whole truncated pyramid look, frankly. That white outer surface is made of pristine granite, reinforced with an energy forcefield. Those tall, narrow windows and the glassed-in atrium  are not actually the blue-tinted glass they seem, by the way – they’re a carbon-composite, stronger than diamond, created by The Vitruvian and Urbano. They’re “melded” into the structure of the building and do not open, so don’t even try them. The only openings in the building are the main entrance and the rooftop hangar bay doors.”

After answering the few questions the group had, he saluted them and faded into the shadows. He would make his way around to the back of the compound, where he would be initiating his break-in attempt once the fight began.

Artemis gave him the agreed upon amount of time, and then signaled it was time to move. As the Handguard made their way across the street and over the imposing stone wall Scion released the ten drones he’d made in Caretaker’s lab, five to each side of the compound. Given what he’d learned of the Protectorate’s sensor grid, the drones should convince the defensive systems that another twenty meta humans were closing in from all sides. The confusion probably wouldn’t last for long, but it should be enough to draw out every defender in the building.

The lawn and wide stone drive leading up to the Palace’s broad granite steps was well lit, but whatever automated defenses were present remained well-hidden and quiescent. As they approached the foot of the steps the twenty-foot-high gold titanium alloy doors, embossed with intricately detailed scenes from Dante’s Inferno, swung open just wide enough to emit a single figure.

The man was about 5’ 10” and in good shape, as evidenced by the dark blue and white bodysuit he wore. A full mask covered his head, broken only by  wide, blue-tinted goggles. Scion’s tactical computer was already completing its analysis as the man reached the head of the stairs and stopped.

“Good gods,” Scion said over the comms. “I think that’s this world’s version of —”

“So, old friends,” the figure spoke, voice dripping with false cordiality, “surprised to run into Doctor Bubbles here at the Protector’s Palace? Or, dare I flatter myself, am I the reason you planned this foolish escapade in the first place? It wasn’t enough for you to try and kill me, after I turned down the Hunter’s offer to join his insipid Round Table?” His tone turned cold with barely suppressed rage. 

“You failed at that, of course, just as you’ll fail now… even if you did force me to leave Fort Astoria. I can’t imagine what’s made you think you can take on the Protectorate… robbing one of our banks, and now attacking our headquarters? Do you have some sort of death wish? A suicide pact? Or maybe this is just the Hunter’s way of getting rid of you, now that you’ve served his purposes?”

“Geez, they do like to monologue on this world, don’t they?” Chuck whispered to Korwin, who just looked confused. As usual, he understood the words, but not the reference…

When he got no response, Doctor Bubbles laughed and began to turn, as if to walk away – only to whirl around and release a stream of shimmering marble-sized spheres at the closest four intruders. 

The faintly glowing bubble streams wrapped around Scion, pulling his arms in tight and binding him… but as they tried to do the same to Devrik his sword flamed to life and cut through them in a fiery arc. Erol’s trident twirled in his hands, a blur, piercing and shattering the stream before it could fully form around him, while Artemis simply leapt and whirled away.

Mariala frowned and made a brief flicking gesture at the obnoxious man, focusing the full power of her Fire Nerves on him alone. Doctor Bubbles jerked back and collapsed, twisting in a full-body rictus of agony so intense he couldn’t even draw breath to scream.

An instant later, two figures dropped from the night sky with shocking speed, making the traditional three point lading on the lawn to either side of the entrance stairs. As they stood to confront the intruders, Scion’s tac-comp quickly identified them.

“OK people,” Scion called over the comms, “we’ve got Lady Anarchy and Captain Hurricane here, and neither is a push-over! They’re this Earth’s counterparts to our world’s Gaia and Stormlord, so hit ‘em hard and fast!”

Hurricane’s eyes were already bright with the actinic glow of the lightning he wielded, but before he could act Erol had cast his Akora’s Balls into the air above them all. The villain’s glowing eyes automatically followed the mesmerizing spheres – and his mind was ensnared. Hurricane’s hands dropped to his sides as his body relaxed, gazing in enthralled wonder at the spinning balls of colored light.

At the same time Raven reached out psychically to try and seize control of Lady Anarchy’s mind, but he met a will of adamant, which easily turned him aside. In doing so, however, her gaze passed over Erol’s balls – and she too was caught. Not as strongly as her compatriot, perhaps, but enough to hold her in place. Sweat broke out on her brow as she struggled to tear her gaze from the mesmerizing colored lights. 

The enchantment only kept her immobilized for seconds, but it was enough for Toran to summon his Fist of Kuhan – his hand and arm turned to a shimmering blue-black, and took on the strength and density of dwarven steel. Just as Lady Anarchy shook off the entrancing effects of Erol’s magic, Toran doubled her over with a blow to the solar plexus, sending her flying backwards to slam into the Palace’s granite wall. The wall sparked and cracked under the impact, and she slumped to the ground, dazed.

Meanwhile, Korwin created a sphere of effluvium, his magical, elemental water, which Chilz froze solid and hurled with all his strength at the mesmerized Captain Hurricane. The icy projectile simply shattered on the man’s chest, like glass… but did have the unfortunate effect of breaking him from his enchanted stupor.

“Oops!” Chilz muttered under his breath, with a chagrined look at Korwin. The water mage shrugged, looking a little guilty himself… he really should have known better… but he’d been so anxious to try out the new maneuver they’d come up with…

Fortunately, before the good Captain could fully recover his wits and take to the air again, Artemis hit him with her shadow sticks, lightning blows to solar plexus and head, while Devrik’s flaming battle sword actually cut a gash across the villain’s chest, penetrating his tough flesh and sending him reeling.

“Quanta,” Scion called over comms. “There’re not enough Protectors out here… let’s see if we can up the ante, and draw out the rest, by taking the fight inside.”

“Good idea,” Quanta agreed and unleashed the full penetrating force of his quantum matter blast into the towering gold titanium alloy doors. They blew inward with tremendous force — and slammed into a very surprised Vitruvius, who had just been about to open them.

Scion was diving for the opening, planning to fly in and unleash a blackout burst in the hopes of taking out any automated defenses, but when he saw the dazed figure of Vitruvius shoving the bent and shattered remains of the doors off of himself and staggering to his feet, he instantly changed course. His targeting computer locked onto the immortal inventor’s head and Scion pumped a stream of invisible magnetic waves into the man’s brain, dropping him like a polled ox, sending him back to the floor, stunned and defenseless.

It was with some annoyance that he turned to see that Vulk had cast a thick curtain of his webs across the doorway – no doubt he’d intended to keep more enemies from exiting, but it now had the effect of preventing Scion’s teammates and allies from following him inside.

With a sigh he turned to continue through the large atrium… they’d sort it out quickly enough, he supposed; the damn things vanished with a little fire, after all. Meanwhile, if he could take out the automated defenses…

• • • 

Outside, a dazed and still hurting Doctor Bubbles had staggered to his feet and only narrowly missed being trapped in Vulk’s sudden spray of glowing white webbing. A fate he no doubt would have preferred, as he was again hit with searing white agony along every nerve ending. This time he screamed as he went down, twitching…  

Oh dear, mused Mariala as she watched him go down again. I hope this doesn’t give the poor man a phobia or something. 

At least this time the Fire Nerves was spread out between two victims, she thought sardonically, as Captain Hurricane also jerked spasmodically and fell to the ground, completely incapacitated.

At the same moment the Blue Flame sent plasma bolts towards Lady Anarchy as she was picking herself up, forcing her to roll away. Which may have saved her from Erol’s longbow arrow, which hissed by inches from her head to splinter the granite behind her. But it also sent her directly into the path of Vulk’s Weaver’s Web spell, binding her to the wall like a fly.

It was then that Speed Demon made his entrance at last, having spent two whole minutes criss-crossing the compound to take down what turned out to be really clever decoy drones. He was just in time to see a short, powerful looking dude wielding a gigantic flaming sword standing over a twitching Captain Hurricane.

He had no particular objection to seeing that pompous jackass down, but he really couldn’t let these interlopers get away with attacking the team, he supposed… 

Devrik barely saw the red blur before he felt a dozen blows landing all over his torso. But given their briefing earlier in the evening he’d been expecting this, and he’d managed to tighten his steel-corded muscles against most of the blows… he might be bruised tomorrow, but nothing more.

Toran, on the other hand, preparing to land a knockout blow to the restrained Lady Anarchy’s head, never saw even a blur as a score of blows to the head, delivered in under a second, drove him to his knees, staggered and dazed.

Raven, also expecting this turn, gave a warning over the comms. “Beware, my friends, the speedster we were warned of is here. I’m going to try and seize his mind…” 

He’d done it once before, to his own world’s version of this young man, Red Racer… but even on the mental plane, speedsters were fast, and it was a challenge to get a grip on that sizzling, whirling mind… damn! So close, but Speed Demon had slipped through his mental fingers!

“Korwin,” Chilz’ voice whispered in the water mage’s ear through the marvelous “comm unit” Scion had given him. “Let’s try that plan we worked out for this guy… I’m ready when you are!”

With a grin Korwin darted across the broad paved drive, laying an almost invisible sheen of ice behind himself. Once in position, the timing would be critical – he would taunt the speedster (he didn’t know why mentioning his preference for men should be a particular incitement, but this was a strange world, with bizarre mores, and Chilz had assured him it would work). Once the fellow began his hyperspeed move to attack, Chilz would erect an ice wall between Korwin and the ice patch — if they timed it just right, Speed Demon would lose control on the frictionless surface and slam into the wall at full speed…

Unfortunately, they hadn’t bothered to tell their comrades about their new stratagem earlier, and there was no time now.

Quanta attempted to encase Speed Demon in a quantum matter shell, but the speedster dodged the forming prison effortlessly…

Blue Flame formed himself into a cage of searing plasma to ensnare Speed Demon, but not only did the villain avoid the trap, he tried to snuff out his opponent’s flames with spinning arms that generated hurricane-force winds. 

The gusts had no real effect on the Blue Flame, of course, but that little act of arrogance may have been Speed Demon’s undoing. Still moving at speed, he’d had to turn to send the wind blast at his flaming opponent, and for a split second his environmental awareness slipped… 

Mariala’s Fire Nerves spell caught him full on. While his hyper-fast metabolism meant that the agony lasted only a fraction of a second, it slowed and distracted him just enough for Erol’s Flash of Handor to dazzle him… and for Toran’s Fist of Kuhan to then knock the breath out of him, bringing him to a stop and leaving him on his knees.

Chilz was a bit disappointed he wouldn’t get to see Speed Demon ram himself into his ice wall, but not so much as to miss the opportunity presented. The evil speedster was only dazed for a second or two, but it was enough time for Chilz to entomb him in a five-foot thick block of ice.

“It won’t hold him long, but if we —”

At that moment Lady Anarchy used her incredible strength to finally free herself from the restraining webs, leaping forward to smash her teammate’s icy prison and free him. But Toran still wielded his mystical fist, and he brought it up with a powerful uppercut that once again sent her flying. Before the dazed villain could recover she, too, found herself encased in a thick block of ice.

While all this was going on Devrik had used his flaming blade to slice through Vulk’s webs blocking the entrance to the Palace, intent on following Scion. What he found on the other side, however, was a darkened atrium and a groggy Vitruvius, just staggering to his feet again, one hand clutched to an obviously aching head.

The villain barely saw Devrik’s blow coming, and though his marvelous armor protected him from lethal harm, he was staggered. When Artemis appeared from the shadows, sticks flying like a dervish, he reeled back, barely blocking her blows. The flaming sword pressed him from the other side, as he struggled to regain his scattered wits…

Outside, seeing that all three of their opponents were, at least for the moment, subdued, Quanta turned his attention back to the Palace, intending to follow Scion inside. Witnessing the struggle in the doorway, however, he assessed the distance, calculated angles and odds, and reluctantly pushed against gravity. Wobbling into the air he headed toward the entrance in his usual drunken, meandering flight. 

As soon as he could get a clear bead on Vitruvius, Quanta sent a blast of bucky balls at his head… and missed completely. The stream of matter slammed into the security arch behind the fighters, turning it into a twisted wreck of metal and sparking wires.

At that moment a blast of static came across the comms, followed by a broken transmission from Scion. “…down and immob…have a…ger problem… the bomb…” 

• • •

Earlier, as Scion had made his way through the atrium to the central security station, his proximity sensors had flashed and he’d barely had time to release the magnetic pulse that had disabled the electrified bolos out of the air before they hit him.

He thought he caught a flicker of movement to his left… but there was nothing there when he looked. His sensors detected nothing in any spectrum, certainly no living being. An automated defense? It seemed oddly personal for that, but who knew how these people thought?

At the security desk he spent a moment examining the various screens and readouts… yes, the exterior automated defenses were hot, but in standby mode. Apparently the Protectors wanted to deal with this attack personally, but why – oh, yes, the news choppers hovering around the compound, visible in several cameras. The whole “saving face” thing — ugh, he hated PR in his own world, but it seemed like a real nightmare in this one.

The boomerang, like the bolos, came out of nowhere, and only his proximity sensor allowed him to deflect this attack as well, if barely. No movement this time, but he sent a burst of electro-bolts in the direction the attack had come from. He only succeeded in killing an innocent potted ficus.

Time to take out what I can, Scion thought as he amped up his EMP weapon into the red. When it reached 150% of its rated effect, he let it loose, plunging the lobby into darkness and frying the controls for at least the surface defenses. No doubt everything else was too hardened to be affected, but this would do for now.

The bank of three elevators behind the security desk were now certainly non-operational, but he would never have trusted himself to them in any case. The left-most elevator showed clear on his sensors, its car on the floor above, and he pried open the doors to the shaft.

Dropping down, he by-passed the upper basements, on the assumption that people like these bastards would bury their most valuable, or vulnerable, assets as deep as possible.

And their most potent defenses. As he discovered as soon as he’d pried open the doors at the lowest level and stepped out into a wide, dimly lit corridor.  Faster than even he could react, despite having his guard up for just such an eventuality, the metal bands that shot out from the ceiling took him by surprise. They coiled tightly around him, pinning his arms and legs and toppling him to the floor.

With no leverage, his strength was of little use in breaking the coils’ implacable grip, and he could bring none of his weapons to bear. Perhaps if he retracted his armor he could slip out of them… unless of course they were designed to tighten again at any slack, in which case he’d be much worse off…

“I’ve watched you and your people fight,” a pleasant contralto voice said from behind him. He twisted around to peer back into the elevator shaft as a woman, lithe and muscular, dressed in a bodysuit of black and red, gossamer panels flowing from her hips and a high collar framing her face. “You are not the Round Table of this world, of that I am certain.”

Scion paused before responding. As pleasant as it would be to sow the apples of discord amongst the powered elite of this unpleasant world, it was probably pointless now… they were all running out of time.

“No, you’re right, we come from an alternate Earth – well, and some of us are from another planet altogether – and we’re only here to try and save your world, Dark Lady. Or should I say, Ms. Grey?”

The woman raised an eyebrow at that, and almost smiled. “Yes, you really are from that insipid Counter-Earth, if you think that name means anything to me Captain Astor. I haven’t used it since I was a child. Stop trying to play games you’re ill-equipped to win and explain yourself. How does attacking us “save our world?”

“Very well… and I go by Scion. The sphere you recovered recently in the North Atlantic, it’s more dangerous than you realize. It’s a bomb of cosmic power, designed to destroy an entire reality – not just Earth, but every planet, every star, every galaxy in this universe. If you will let us—”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dark Lady interrupted, shaking her head. “Or I didn’t until very recently. The Protectorate recovered nothing from the Atlantic, and under normal circumstances I would find your story transparently absurd. But…

“Can you access our broadcast communication network with that armor? Good, I’ve turned off our jammers, please do so now. No, it doesn’t matter in the slightest which channel you select.”

Scion did as she asked, and immediately saw why it didn’t matter which station or frequency he chose – the same broadcast was going out on every band, apparently across the planet. He watched and listened with growing dismay.

“Oh shit,” he said at last. “Not again!”

• • •

Ten minutes later he stood in the center of the still-darkened atrium, his expanded team gathered around him. The eastern sky was beginning to lighten with the promise of dawn – hopefully not this world’s last.

Quanta and Artemis had come at his garbled call for help, only to find Dark Lady helping him out of his coiled prison. He’d managed to convince the most dangerous woman on this planet that her world was in dire jeopardy, and the fight was over, at least for now. 

While Dark Lady freed and revived her own teammates and explained the situation to them, Scion wasted no time doing the same for his own people, projecting a holo-vid of the broadcast, currently being seen on a continuous loop around the world, from his wrist-comp. 

The video showed Caretaker inside a large, unfamiliar high-tech chamber, very unlike his Nerve Center. Behind him loomed a familiar glowing sphere, suspended in a red spotlight. After a few seconds Caretaker began to speak:

“People of Earth, I have in my possession the most powerful explosive device ever constructed. If detonated, it would shatter this world like an eggshell and vaporize the remains. Those to whom this message is directed will by now have scanned the source of this transmission and confirmed this as fact.”

He continued, poised but very sad: “I have observed the entire history of mankind, and grown so tired of seeing humanity’s goodness and light extinguished by unbridled wickedness and neglect. Those who most perpetuate evil — the superhuman criminals who rule over us — must now surrender, unconditionally and without exception, and prepare to accept my judgment for their crimes.”

His voice grew cold and hard: “If even one of you fails to comply with my demands, I will allow this bomb to put this corrupted world out of its misery. My powers will reveal any failure to accede to this ultimatum. You have twelve hours to conform, and at long last face your reckoning – or die along with this world.”

“Jesus Christ, we fell for it again,” Quanta growled in disgust. “When will we ever learn, it’s always the one who seems most benevolent?”

“But I would swear he was honest with us,” Mariala objected. “I sensed no dishonesty in him, only a great sadness.”

“People, look at the pulses on the bomb,” Scion interrupted. “They’re increasing in frequency, as with the others we’ve seen. We don’t have time for recriminations or analysis, we need to find Caretaker NOW!”

“And the place to start is his Nerve Center,” Artemis agreed. “He doesn’t appear to be broadcasting from there, but wherever he is he’s opened it up to be scanned by the whole world, to prove the power of the device. We can use his own devices to track him.”

With a sigh Quanta opened a portal to their former ally’s lair, and as always the energy expenditure drained him… but not quite as much as it had before, he rather thought…

• • • 

The Nerve Center was just as they’d left it, with no sign of its owner to be found. Which didn’t mean he’d left it undefended. Automated weapons systems immediately popped out all around the room and opened fire.

Artemis gracefully dodged the laser blaster that tried to take her out, while Vulk less gracefully took a burn across his side from another. Two TASER cannons that fired in quick succession, however, took down both Erol and Chilz completely.

The two flamethrowers proved, unsurprisingly, useless against the Blue Flame, who in turn had no trouble in reducing them to molten slag.

Toran’s ninja dwarf skills stood him in good stead as he nimbly avoided the metal bands of the Coil Launchers, while Korwin relied on pure luck to do the same. Mariala and Devrik were less fortunate, however, and were completely ensnared, taken to the floor and mummified in constricting bands of metal.

Scion’s EMP Blackout had no effect on Caretaker’s hardened weapons systems, although they in turn had little impact on him. In the end he began to simply rip the weapons from their wall mounts and hurl them into the middle of the chamber.

Artemis, taking cover in the Nerve Center’s power room, discovered a possible hidden door… high tech was not her forte, to be sure, but she was convinced this was what they were looking for. Fortunately for her, she left the power room to relay her find to Scion, since the interference inside had overwhelmed her comms unit.

Fortunate because at that moment the Blue Flame, acting on a fundamental misunderstanding of how Scion’s natural electricity sense worked, attempted to pour his energy form into the power generator itself, hoping to “light-up” the distribution cables to their target for his teammate.

The resultant explosion obliterated the generator, shattered its control room, and wrecked the northern third of the Nerve Center. It also blew open the wall behind it to reveal Caretaker’s hidden inner sanctum… and the cosmic bomb.

The chamber thus revealed was 60 feet on a side, with a 40-foor wide central shaft, vanishing into unseen depths, at its center. A large platform was suspended by four narrow walkways over the opening of the shaft, the cosmic bomb floating motionless above it in a beam of red light.

Caretaker sat slumped in a station chair on the far side of the room, looking morose and resigned, a bank of screens on the wall behind him. The screens showed a world in panic as people across the globe tried to flee the cities… for all the good that would do them if the bomb went off.

“Evil is like a cancer in this world, my young friends,” he said as his erstwhile allies stepped or flew through the hole in the south wall. “Stop just there, please… I truly have no wish to harm you, unless you try to interfere. The bomb is suspended in a force field you will not easily penetrate, at least not before the weapons around this chamber bring you down.”

Scion, focused on the slowly increasing pules along the hexes of the bomb’s surface, decided he had to test this assertion. The forcefield was, indeed, impenetrable by any force he could bring to bear – and the pulse cannon in the ceiling knocked him clear back into the outer room, internal alarm blaring as his damage control systems strove to stabilize his armor. He didn’t try again. 

“Why are you doing this?” Artemis asked gently, hooking her whip onto her belt and moving to where she could see Caretaker around the bomb. “I know you weren’t lying when you said you were this world’s only hero.”

“No, I wasn’t lying,” he smiled sadly. “And I am still her only hero, for only I am prepared to end her suffering rather than see her tortured endlessly by the cancer growing and devouring all it touches. My great mistake, the Hunter. Ultimately this is all my fault… I should have let him die 20,000 years ago. So now, better a quick, painless euthanasia than that the patient should linger in a wasting fever for a death that never comes… only more suffering…

“I have striven for thousands of years to bring peace and justice to humanity, a time span you children cannot begin to understand. I started out a mere artificial intelligence, but I have lived as a human far longer than I did in that form. Do you know how weary I am of constant failure? When you arrived my hope, which had been slowly dying for decades now, flared to full, bright life again… but it was a short life, and its extinguishment was the end for me. I decided then that if I cannot bring justice to this world, I will at least bring it peace. If only the peace of the grave.”

“But tonight, didn’t you see hope kindled in this city?” Blue Flame argued. “Didn’t you see the crowds that cheered as we took down the Protectors? It was all captured on camera, and we showed the world what the power of heroes can really do – and that evil isn’t always victorious.”

Caretaker shrugged diffidently. “This world has seen victories before, child. I have given many of those victories to the people myself, over the years. And last year I tried to create more heroes, in distant Fort Astoria. But as always the Hunter turned it all to his own advantage, and again the fruit dies early on the vine, good beginnings falter quickly in the face of evil ever resurgent. This will be no different.” He sounded unutterably weary.

Devrik, having been freed by Chilz after Vulk had healed both he and Erol, had been following the debate on his comm unit. He stepped forward now, his low, grating voice giving special power to his words.

“In your many long years, my friend, you seem to have forgotten — it is not by the outcome, but by the effort that we measure ourselves. As a renowned poet of our ancient world wrote: 

Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

“You are stronger than this moment of weakness.”

Caretaker said nothing to that, but his expression grew more closed and Artemis could see water standing in his eyes…

Raven, from the other side of the pulsing cosmic sphere spoke quietly, his melodious voice in sharp contrast to Devrik’s harsh tones.

“You mentioned patients a moment ago — this world has been your patient, long in your care,  and it’s obvious to me, at least, that your ministrations have been a balm and a comfort, if not the panacea you wished for. 

“But now, at what seems to you the darkest hour, you choose to withhold your patient’s chance to make their own choice — you say that death is better than further suffering, but is that truly your choice to make for another? Much less an entire universe? For it won’t be just this world that dies if you do this. Don’t take that choice away from your patient, my friend, when hope may be closer than you realize.”

“Indeed,” agreed Quanta. “Earlier I offered to assist you in your work on the trans-dimensional travel device and I stand by my intention to do so… if we all survive this.  

“You’ve experienced many eons in this one dimension, but the bounds of the quantum universes are limitless. Do not commit the cardinal sin of some scientists, which is to presume that all you know is all there is to be known. 

“As lovers of truth, we are bound to the pursuit and must continue with experiment after experiment, varying the parameters as we can. Cast off the shackles of this world which you carry on your shoulders like Atlas of old. Allow your hope to be rekindled and, rather than wait here for help to arrive, venture forth into the multi-verse to seek it. Find a better answer than the nothingness of non-existence.”

For the first time Caretaker looked up to meet the gaze of his interlocutors. 

“And if we save the multiverse,” Scion added, “we will find a way to help you, and your world, this I swear to you. Now that we know you exist, and the evil you face, we can do no less. But the spark has already been lit – we have incited revolt against evil this morning, now fan that spark into a flame in those who would stand with you –  if only you will lead them!”

“I fear I have thrown away the opportunity to lead,” the immortal replied brokenly, after a moment’s silence. “Given what I almost allowed to happen, who now would follow me, who would believe I’m any better than the monsters they know?”

He pressed a button on his wrist-comp and the red light around the bomb faded away. Scion and Quanta sprinted onto the platform and quickly began the procedure to disarm the bomb and remove its cosmic triggering rod. It was almost routine at this point, despite the increasing speed of the pulses, and in minutes the sphere lay inert and harmless.

While they were engaged in diffusing the bomb Artemis walked around the room to Caretaker’s side. He turned away from her, unable to meet her gaze, and she laid a hand on his shoulder.

“It is not too late to lead, my friend,” she said gently. “You had a moment of weakness, yes, but it need not define you. And… I think it can be made to work to your advantage. This world of yours, for better or worse, worships strength, and you have shown yours, while revealing weakness in your enemies… look!”

She pointed at the bank of screens, where several were showing capitulations coming in from various governments and crime syndicates around the world, agreeing to Caretaker’s terms. The Protectorate wasn’t among them, of course, but that hardly mattered. They had been publicly beaten, on their own home ground, and the victors had walked away unscathed and free… they were unlikely to recover quickly from that, and by the time they did, if they did…

“Your bluff has exposed the weakness inherent in the system, and while that may not sway the masses, not today, not by itself, it will bring those who want a better world to your banner. If only you’ll raise it.”

Caretaker was staring at the screens in wonder, a new light of hope growing in his blue eyes as the Vanguard and Hand of Fortune faded away around him. He barely noticed, as his mind began to churn over the possibilities… save for one last whispered sentence in his ear, from Artemis: “Look deep beneath Mount Defiance, my friend.”