Under the vast expanses of the Sahara Desert was the Sunken Isle of Avalon. Once a great place of human learning, Avalon had lain in hidden ruin for over 700 years. Now, its sole caretaker was Prester John, the one-time king and now custodian. He who had lost the Evil Eye had traded it for a simple broom and went from building to building each day, keeping this sanctuary of lost dreams immaculate and remembering a much-distant past.
Only, on this day, Prester John walked through an ancient library and saw something that he should not have seen – an open scroll, where none had lain open the day before. John took the scroll in hand and glanced at its contents. He read them. Then he understood them.
"So, the time is at hand," spoke Prester John. For it was.
"The Horror that Walks on Air"
by Scott Casper, with thanks to Stan Lee for Fantastic Four #120
March 15, 1972
10 Park Place, Newark, New Jersey
The appearance of Newark had not changed and yet everything was different now. Headlines in The Star-Ledger and The Record touted it like it was the Second Coming. The public seemed to adore it; this was just the kick of sand to the face that Newark had always wanted to give to New York City.
The top six floors of the Fireman's Insurance Company Building, in the Four Corners Historic District, was now the home of the Fantastic Four.
For the last three months, the building had been closed for renovations, though outwardly the historic look of the building went unchanged. For the last two months, work on the building was constantly supervised by at least one superhero or related famous person. Reed and Sue Richards had come out from California again for a short visit so Reed could install the automated systems. Tony Stark had personally helped install the security system, security being one of the fields Stark Industries had entered into after getting out of defense contracting. Even Doctor Strange (along with Agatha Harkness, though no one but friends had noticed) had both come to cast spells of protection onto the new headquarters.
Instead of a cramped reception room, the new headquarters had a two-story ballroom for receptions, decorated with a fountain surrounded by statues of the founding four members of the Fantastic Four. The room was, this night, jammed with guests, including journalists from Toronto to Chicago to Atlanta, from newspapers, radio, and television, all here for the gala opening of Fantastic Four, Inc. Headquarters. There was catered food, plenty of conversation, and a quietly-played, early Beatles tune being broadcast in honor of what big fans Ben and John had always been of them. Just as John and Paul were singing, "You really got a hold on me" at the beginning of the final refrain, the music was cut short. People began to turn and stare at the upper floor balcony. An explosion of flash photography heralded the balcony arrival of the Fantastic Four.
Ben Grimm, John Storm, and King Namor I had all walked in wearing black tuxedoes. Ben was completely unrecognizable to someone expecting the monstrous shape of the Thing; looking instead like a 50 year-old man, ruggedly handsome, in good shape. John bore only passing resemblance to the gangly teenager he once was, now being a tall and powerfully-built man. Only Namor never seemed to change, though those who still remembered what he looked like back in the 1940s recalled when he had a more oddly-triangular shape to his head in his youth.
On the arm of each man was his spouse. Alicia Grimm wore a long, tight, pink maternity dress, her eight months of pregnancy obvious to all. Crystal Storm and Queen Namora I wore shorter, matching dresses, Crystal in yellow and Namora in blue. Alicia was still an attractive woman of 37 years, with the bearing of a confident, powerful woman that seldom betrayed her blindness. Crystal, like all Inhumans, was older, but appeared younger. Her almond eyes and pretty looks drew all eyes her way. Namora, tall, statuesque, with her long mane of blonde hair and regal air, looked something like a pointy-eared Amazon woman.
Namor raised his hand over the crowd. "Ladies and gentleman," he announced, his voice booming without the need of a microphone. "The Fantastic Four are home!"
The crowd broke into applause. Then the six hosts and hostesses descended a spiral staircase to the lower level to join the crowd and answer questions.
"No, it don't feel so unusual callin' someplace besides Manhattan home," Ben said to a reporter. "Remember, the FF wuz' out in California fer' two months before we moved to New York!"
"We just felt it was the right time," Alicia said in answer to a follow-up question from the same reporter. "We can't be sure how much of the negative sentiment towards us in New York recently was natural and how much of it was part of the alien Over-Mind's plot, but it seemed foolish to try to go back to the way things were and pretend nothing had happened. We've just…moved on."
"It's not like New York ain't still got plenty of superheroes!" Ben chimed in. "And if they need us, we're still a short trip away."
"No, none of Reed Richards' funds were used for building the new headquarters," Namor was telling a pretty reporter nearby. "I am fully funding the Fantastic Four at this point. No, it's only an investment of my time and resources, not a political act from the Kingdom of Atlantis. My friends in the Fantastic Four address me as Namor, not 'my liege'."
"Technically, my husband declared war on the entire human race," Namor said to another reporter at the same time, "but that is all in the past now. Merman-human relations are stable and peaceful."
John had just stepped away from Crystal to fetch two champagne glasses from a waiter. He sipped his while holding hers out to her.
"No thanks," Crystal said.
"But you love champagne," John said.
Crystal looked like she was about to make another comment when Ben and Alicia came past them. "Alright, folks!" Ben shouted. "Alicia and me are takin' the first group of guests on a tour! Comin' through! Sorry, Crystal!" he said as they pushed past.
Across the room, Namor and Namora had slipped away from reporters to a buffet table where they whispered to each other in private.
"Why do you eye that female reporter so?" Namora asked.
"Am I not allowed to now?"
"You have plenty of consorts awaiting you back at court who would gladly catch your eye if you were ever home to be caught…"
"I know," Namor said with a frustrated sigh. "It's just…I feel like I've found my calling here, more even than I had with the Avengers."
"Your calling, or your new home?"
"Our people have long whispered accusations about my loyalty to Atlantis. Surely you would not join them."
"Retire to your royal chambers with me tonight and prove my doubts wrong."
"…and this next room is the communications room," Ben was explaining as he led the first tour group. "You'll notice we've got an entire wall of TV screens set ta' pick up news shows from all over the world. We've got an automated computer system, state-of-the-art stuff, monitorin' what's said on them and analyzin' threat levels. Then, each day, we can get a report of what's goin' on in the world from a printout without havin' ta' watch the news all …day…"
"Ben, what is it? What's wrong?" Alicia asked, not only able to hear the distress in Ben's trailing voice, but sensing it from those around them as well.
"I don't know what ta' tell ya', babe…" Ben said as he stared at the screens. What he and everyone else saw were photographs being shown on screen, blurry and indistinct, but clearly showing people flying with big, feathery wings on their backs. At first Ben thought they might be of Angel, from the X-Men, caught out of costume, but the photos clearly showed different winged people. "Hold on…lemme' get the audio up on one of these things…" he said as he stepped forward, leaned over a console, and played with buttons and dials.
Randomly, the audio came up on CBC News from Toronto and news anchor Lloyd Robertson saying, "-ports coming in from hundreds of people around the world of angel sightings. While normally little credence is given to such reports, the sheer number of them within the last 24 hours, the global nature of the phenomena, and photographs like this one that seem to clearly show angels, are causing many people to question, not just their own skepticism, but their religious leaders as well."
"Huh. Well if that don't beat all…" Ben said as he turned the volume down.
A squeal of static announced that the intercom was being turned on. "Ben, Alicia, we need you back here pronto!" John's voice said urgently.
Back in the reception room, Namor, Namora, John – having 'flamed on' - and Crystal stood as barriers between the crowd and the man who had literally just arrived out of nowhere in their midst. The crowd murmured and speculated about the man in the gold-colored, fur-trimmed tunic and chainmail hose, blue spiked helmet, and red moustache. Others snapped pictures of him.
"What do you want, Prester John?" John Storm asked over the din of the crowd. "I don't have the Evil Eye, if that's what you're after."
"I have come for I know your works, your labor, your patience, and that you cannot bear those who are evil," Prester John said.
"Yeah, okay…and while you sell me on that, I'll just keep you under wraps," John Storm said as he waved his hand and burning plasma sprung up in a ring around the floor at Prester John's feet.
""I know your works, that you are neither cold nor hot..." Prester John said and, suddenly, John Storm was no longer aflame. His tuxedo had burnt away, but thankfully he wore a fireproof, skin-tight version of his Fantastic Four uniform beneath it. The ring of fire immediately began to die down.
"How did he do that?" Crystal asked.
"Prester John uses super-science from the ancient past," John Storm said, annoyed and slightly embarrassed. "He's probably got some sort of gadget in his glove."
"You mean magic, lad? I used magic once, but now I am endowed by a greater power - he who comes."
"Outta' the way, people!" Ben was saying as he and Alicia arrive. "What's goin' on here? Who's the nut in the funky helmet?"
"Ben, get people out of here!" Crystal shouted. "Prester John is here!"
"I am!" Prester John shouted. "Now there has been an accounting of everyone, but I find your numbers are too many and I only need four of ye. Which four shall represent ye?"
"I've got five that'll represent us right over here as soon as I can get into clobberin' range of 'em!" Ben shouted, shaking his fist in the air. His other hand held Alicia's hand tight, while Alicia waved to the exits with her free hand, encouraging people to file out into the hallways for safety.
"Wait!" Namor shouted. "I've observed a regal air about this mysterious stranger. I think we should give him a chance."
Namora stepped forward, her hands on her hips. "Namor, myself, the Human Torch, and the Thing," she said, but Namor had put a hand on her arm to stop her before she was even done.
"It should be myself, the Human Torch, the Thing, and Crystal. I'm sorry, my love, but Crystal has more experience as part of this team."
"Then it is decided! To the Throne of God we now go!" No sooner had he said it then he and the four people Namor had chosen were all gone from the room.
The reactions in that crowd of people assembled in the ballroom had, a moment earlier, ranged from thinking this was all a show to thinking this was nothing the Fantastic Four could not handle. Now, though, with the number of super-powered people in the room greatly diminished, there immediately sprung up a fear that the situation was out of hand. Alicia was jostled and pushed against by some men who had ignored her calls to exit the room, but were now ready to stampede past her. Losing her balance, she started to go down until a hand caught hers. She expected it to be Ben's, but it was not. She recognized the feel of the hand right away, though.
"Thank you, Namora," Alicia said.
"They're gone, Alicia," Namor confirmed for her. "Prester John took them somewhere. But where? Where would this Throne of God be?"
"Typically Gentile," a nearby man said sarcastically.
Namora took no notice of him, instead taking Alicia by the arm and starting to lead her out of the room.
The remark made more of an impression on Alicia though and, after she thought about it for a moment, said, "Wait! Namora, is there a Jewish man by where we were just standing?"
Namora stopped, but asked, "What is a Jewish man again?"
Alicia did not feel strong enough to give a lesson in comparative religion to a mermaid who still believed in Neptune, so instead she told Namora what to ask the crowd.
Namora nodded and used her ankle wings to float up into the air. "Who here can tell me where the Throne of God is?"
The crowd settled down and grew quiet, as everyone remaining was curious to learn the answer. It seemed like two long moments passed before a hand feebly went up in the air.
Namora parted the crowd to reach the man with the raised hand, a man of almost 60 years. "Well?" she asked in a commanding tone.
"What did you recognize?" Alicia coaxed from behind her, having followed in her wake.
"That man…Prester John," the man said hesitantly as he slowly took his hand down. "He quoted Bible verse twice. So I'm thinking the Throne of God is a reference to Israel."
"We can monitor Israeli television from the communications room!" Alicia said. "Come on, Namora! And bring that man with us!"
They were followed by quite a few curious reporters, but Namora held them back so Alicia could lead them. Namora kept the reporters out of the communications room with an angry glare, but they just jostled for position in the doorway. By then, Namora was too busy finding the right monitor screen and adjusting an audio dial, but all they heard was the whine from a test pattern screen.
"It's no good," Namora said, deflated. "It's two in the morning there and their Channel 1 hasn't started for the day yet."
"Namora, is that man still here with us?" Alicia asked.
"You, speak your name," Namora said. "Are you a reporter?"
"Charles Krieger," the man said, "and no, but I managed to get the invite for tonight because I used to be mayor of Jersey City."
"Mr. Krieger, we need to hear from someone in Israel. Is there anyone you could call for us?"
Mr. Krieger nodded and headed for the phone mounted on the wall. "I know some people who know people there. I'll make some calls…"
March 16, 1972
Jerusalem, Israel
It was early, still pre-dawn, and the street was deserted until Ben, John Storm, Namor, Crystal, and Prester John appeared in the middle of it.
"Where are we?" Namor demanded.
"Hey, I can 'flame on' again!" John announced as he burst into flame.
"No way!" Ben said. "I know where we are! That's the Temple Mount over there! We're in Jerusalem!"
"But why, Prester John? Why bring us here?" Crystal asked.
"Why? Because it was his will!" Prester John answered, pointing to the sky.
Everyone looked up and beheld, floating in the air, a man-shaped hole in the sky that seemed to be filling up and filled with air and earth and fire and water, both in succession and somehow also simultaneously.
"What is that horror?" Namor asked, recoiling.
"Believe what ye will and ye shall see it as such," Prester John said, still standing calmly while everyone else fell back into defensive positions.
The thing in the air held out a hand-shaped section of itself as if to gesture and, in response, a column of light filled with lightning descended from out of the dark sky overhead, struck the street not a hundred paces from the Fantastic Four, and disintegrated the pavement.
"Whatever that thing is, it's obviously planning on doing some property damage!" John shouted to the others as he took to the air. Lifted upward by a jet of fire, he arced toward the thing in the air and surrounded it with a globe of burning plasma as he flew past.
Everyone watched as the plasma was absorbed harmlessly into the man-shaped hole in the sky.
"I hate to do this to my only tux, but…" Ben said as he began to will his transformation to happen. He grit his teeth as the painful thickening of his skin and the change of his physical features began.
"Let's see if I can fan the flames it already absorbed," Crystal said. She willed air to flow tighter all around thing in the air. The fire inside the hole seemed to burn brighter, suggesting the air too was absorbed, but it did not seem to have any further effect upon the thing. In fact, as if in answer, the thing reached out again as if to point and a second column of light and lightning came down from the sky and destroyed a nearby driveway, not 50 feet from where Namor was even now flying into the air.
"Let's see it contend with me!" Namor said as he flew up to the thing in the sky. He left his tuxedo on, but, already being barefoot, his pant legs proved no impediment to his ankle wings. As horrible as the thing looked to him, Namor grimaced and forced himself to look as he swung a powerful right fist at what looked like a head-shaped area of the hole. It never reached its target, for a hand-shaped area of the hole in the sky rose up with blinding speed and caught Namor's fist. "Suffering shad! Why is everything we fight these days stronger than me?" Namor complained as the thing tossed him away. Namor fell backward and hurtled down into some nearby grass, impacting the ground hard enough to leave a depression.
"C'mon, Benjy!" John Storm called out as he came around for another pass and tried to blind the thing with a concentrated burst of light aimed at where its face ought to be. "This seems like a really good clobbering time to me!"
Ben had, by now, already transformed into the monstrous form of the Thing, his tuxedo shredded and only his elastic blue trunks remaining around his orange, rocky body. But instead of striking a combat pose, he stood there just staring up passively at the thing in the sky. "No…" he said calmly. "No, don't ya' see what it is yet?"
"What?" Crystal asked. Ben had not talked loudly enough for Namor or John Storm to hear, but she had. "What is it?"
"So beautiful…" Ben said, raising his hand as if shielding his eyes from the sun. "I saw it for real when I was transformin', durin' that moment when I can't think through all the pain. It's…it's an angel…"
The 'angel' pointed and a third column descended from the sky and pulverized the street further away from the heroes.
"Johnny, Namor!" Crystal shouted. "I think it's mind-controlled Ben!"
"Maybe it's the Over-Mind, come back!" Namor shouted back. He was back on his feet and shoveling a small mountain of upturned earth in front of him. "Here's some ammo for you, Crystal!"
"Let's see how well you brush off having a small sun ignite inside you!" John Storm shouted as he flew circles around the 'angel', intensifying his bombardment of burning plasma.
"Give me a clear shot, Johnny!" Crystal shouted as she willed loose rock and earth to fly like cannonballs up at the 'angel', just as the Human Torch widened his flight path. The loose soil baked hard in the heat of the firestorm around the 'angel', but either bounced harmlessly off of it or passed right through.
The 'angel' responded by raising a 'hand'. From the tip of what looked like a finger full of fire, a thunderclap rang out and a shockwave knocked John Storm out of the sky, forced Namor to brace himself, and knocked Crystal off her feet. Ben and Prester John stood unharmed. The 'angel' took advantage of a pause in the battle and summoned a fourth column of light and lightning that blasted away the front of a nearby building.
"Guys, stop!" Ben shouted and he moved towards the others.
Prester John lent a hand to Crystal and helped her back to her feet. "Do not fear, lass," he told her gently. "Both of ye are unharmed."
"Ben, you've got to fight this thing!" John Storm said as he got back on his feet.
"No, no we don't got to fight it!" Ben said. "Stop thinkin' about fightin' an' just look at it. Think about Sunday school growin' up an' look at it. Or…think about how much ya' love Crystal."
John was hesitant to let his guard down, remembering how Over-Mind had possessed him when he had. But there was so much earnestness in Ben's expression…John could not help himself. He relaxed, thought about the last time he'd been in Central Park with Crystal, and looked up. "Oh…" he gasped. "He's so…beautiful…" For him now as well, the hole in the sky no longer looked like a hole filled with the four ancient elements, but a beautiful man with wings made of fire.
"What do you we do now?" Namor asked, regrouping with Crystal. "How do we fight that thing?"
"There is no need to fight," Prester John told them. "Nor was there ever a need to. Whether ye see the light yet or not, there is nothing ye can do to stop what will happen next. The ground has been purified of the taint of man and the true throne of God is about to rise."
The 'angel' gestured with both 'hands' and the ground shook. The blasted and scorched earth where once had been a street, a driveway, and part of a building cracked open, like an egg being opened from the inside. A shape was being pushed up from out of the ground. As it rose, the shape became recognizable as a crude, simple, throne-shaped chair made of stone.
The 'angel' walked on air as if descending steps, coming closer to the throne. In the presence of the throne, the 'angel' became visible to Crystal and Namor as it had already to John and Ben. They saw a man dressed in a white and red, sleeveless tunic, a white helmet, red gauntlets, and tall red and gold boots, with wings made of fire on his back.
"I am Gabriel," the angel spoke to them. "Fear not and no harm shall come to you here. You four have been brought to receive the Word of God."
"We…we have a copy of the Bible at home," Crystal said. She tried to sound flippant, but it was painfully difficult to do while staring at the angel.
"Not that Word. There is a new Word, written on the scroll you will find on the throne. It is a quest that God has chosen you four to accomplish. You must complete this quest, and quickly, for events are already unfolding around you that your eyes cannot see."
"Huh. Well…let's read it!" Ben said, moving towards the throne.
"You must resist the urge, Benjamin Grimm, for you must not read the scroll."
"Wait," Namor said. "Your God wants us for a special mission, wrote down instructions, but wants us to perform the mission without reading the instructions?"
"The Word of God is not shared lightly. The scroll has seven seals upon it. If you need them, a clue will be bestowed upon you for each seal that is broken. But should the seventh seal be broken, it will mean…the End of the World!"
NEXT ISH: A child is born. A quest is undertaken. The Earth is left behind. Even if you've read Fantastic Four #121, you'll still be shocked by "The Mysterious Mind-Blowing Secret of Gabriel!"