Marvel 2000 Presents
Excalibur Vol.2 #24
Siege of Magic
Conclusion
"Island Stomping."
Bridge of Excalibur's support hellicarrier, The Resolute
"Would ya look at that scene?" Chapman muttered, "such a beautiful work of art. Just not right what we're gonna do to it…"
Chapman stared longingly at the giant crystal city of Faylin. As an artist, Chapman knew magnificent works of art when he saw them, and from the outside, the giant floating island hovering over the edge of the Mongolian desert was a priceless treasure. It almost pained him to do what he was planning.
But Chapman wasn't one to let his sentimentality get the better of him. That city was a threat to his entire world and came into this reality intent on making war rather than accept their mistakes. Such people could not be reasoned with, not without a high cost paid in blood. So Chapman was going to do his damnedest to make sure it was the enemy that paid that butcher's bill.
"Is everything ready?" Chapman asked his Captain.
"All teams reporting go status," he replied.
Chapman nodded, "Then open with a light barrage. Give these blighters a love tap, and see how they respond."
The Captain motioned towards the weapons master, and within half a minute, three dozen stinger missiles cut through the air and towards Faylin. The Captain held his breath, but Chapman didn't even blink when they slammed into an invisible wall and exploded without leaving a scratch.
"Deflector shields," Chapman sighed, "and they use magic. That's not even fair."
"Orders, sir?" The Captain was nervous, but his voice didn't betray that. He was a professional, and remain one even while fighting the unknowable.
"Ready our interceptors, tell the Stealth team inside the island to get to cover," Chapman ordered, "and then, tell Hellios…"
Space, unknown to most people, was littered with hundreds of tons of debris. Parts that fell off of shuttles, satellites that no longer functioned and all other kinds of junk that came with exploring the final frontier. And that didn't begin to include the occasional destroyed alien warship, or no longer functioning orbital death-ray. The space around earth's orbit was as polluted as any open landfill, something Chapman was well aware of.
So for the past forty eight hours, Hellios had been gathering up all that trash, all that waste, and using his solar vision, melting them into long metal columns that stretched the length of a block, and were thicker than three elephants tied together. The solar powered hero was amazed to see how much material was left over after he'd constructed six of the missiles. He honestly didn't know if he could look at the night's sky the same way after this.
"Bring the thunder."
Hellios smiled as he heard the order. Ever since he'd gained his powers, he had a hard time imagining himself as anything other than what he was now. As a young boy, he wanted to be Hercules, as a Football player he wanted to be better, but as Hellios?
Up until now, he couldn't think of anything greater than being his country's solar powered champion.
Hellios felt on top of the world, literally. In addition to his hand crafted weapons, Hellios had another vital tool. Resting atop his head was a thick metal visor, specially made for what was to happen next. When he grabbed the first giant metal column, it automatically showed Hellios where and how hard he'd have to throw it to hit his target. It was a modern miracle of targeting technology, something Hellios was eternally grateful for. Remaining in space and hurling down fiery justice beat reentry with a giant metal phallic symbol any day of the week.
The mighty Hellios sank his hands into the steel of the first missile, and let it sail. Within moments, Chapman ordered another missile and Hellios gleefully complied.
All the while, the former Football player imagined himself as Zeus, hurling his mighty thunderbolts to smite his enemies as he unleashed a terrible vengeance down upon them.
And as far as the citizens of Faylin were concerned, he wasn't far from the truth.
Faylin
Lord Darkstorm stood in his command center with his hands folded behind his back. The room was a massive crystal structure, twice the length of a football field. Jagged columns of tree like crystals, and mystic pools dotted the floor. Some two hundred specially trained mages monitored a half dozen scrying window. Some conveyed his orders to the army, other mages worked to direct his intelligence services while others connected directly to his research teams.
This was the heart of Darkstorm's military apparatus, where he coordinated his people of thousands. There was nowhere else that Lord Darkstorm felt more powerful, more secure.
And since Chapman's abrupt and seemingly effortless departure earlier in the day, it was something he needed more now than ever. He wouldn't allow himself a moment's sleep until it was discovered exactly how it was accomplished and if it was an isolated incident. The idea that a potential enemy could travel to and fro from his territory at will was terrifying to any leader at a time of war.
Unfortunately, his three best researchers were hitting a wall, only all they saw was inspiration.
"We think he might have used a family summons contract," said the first one, "perhaps he had an empathic link to a familiar that enabled him to signal for them to leave. All he would need is a blood contract."
"But those contracts take decades to establish, and we'd recognize the remaining blood! And how did the others disappear?" asked the second man, "I tell you, this was a magic we've never seen before!" quarter
"They might not have used magic at all," Lord Darkstorm suggested casually.
"They might be using mana fueled spells, or possibly chakra like they used in the East," said the second researcher, as if Darkstorm hadn't said a thing.
"Or they didn't use magic," Darkstorm growled again, this time making sure he was heard, "we only found three with any touch of magic that we could feel. Perhaps the source of their power is something we haven't considered or even discovered."
"It's possible, my Lord, that their magic is so advanced that it doesn't appear to be magic at all! A sort of super magic, if you will."
"They must use magic, however else could they have stolen ours?"
Lord Darkstorm winced inwardly, and was about to refute the idea when he saw the glimmer in his researchers eyes. They grabbed the idea like a starving dog attacking a piece of meat, and weren't about to let go anytime soon.
Darkstorm excused himself and made his way to a nearby balcony, his hands folded behind his back. For the first time since he'd started this gambit, he was beginning to doubt its outcome. He had at first assumed that once they were free from their rotting home-world, his people would return to their natural superiority. But never did he imagine he'd find a realm where people were as powerful as his combat mages without even the hint of magic.
"Lord Darkstorm! They've begun their attack! Their war-craft just released a barrage of giant flaming metal arrows, but our defenses held fast!"
Darkstorm turned towards his most trusted seer, Oliver Deegan. He was gifted with far sight, often able to see the connection between the present and future to be.
"Can they get through our defenses?"
"They haven't yet, but ultimately I cannot say. The future is far too uncertain, the coming storm too great!"
"I thought as much," Darkstorm nodded, "go assist the Generals. Help them deploy and keep me appraised. It will be some time before they get through our defenses, but we need to be prepared as soon as possible regardless."
Deegan teleported away, and the leader of Faylin strolled towards the nearby balcony. Like he did as he did as a young boy, Lord Darkstorm looked to the sky in quite, serene contemplation. More than one epiphany was inspiring by peering at its ebony depths.
Only now, his heart nearly jumped out of his throat when he saw a giant, molten fireball emerge from those inky depths, careening directly towards his precious city.
He tried to shout a warning, unleash some meager means of mystical defense, anything, but by the time the command reached his brain, it was already too late.
Three hundred tons of solid steel slammed into the shields around Faylin with such force, just over seven thousand miles per hour, that the giant, Manhattan-sized floating city actually bobbed up and down for several brief seconds. The fireball struck the city with so much power that Darkstorm would actually feel it in his teeth.
When it was all over, he looked up and saw glowing orange molten steel resting atop his city's final defense, and could sense how the field strained to keep the superheated metal that was spread across it like an ominous cloud from falling any further.
"What…was that?" Lord Darkstorm growled, incensed that they'd dare hit his city with such a devastating weapon.
"That?" Chapman smirked at his Captain, "that's just physics, lad. Energy equals mass times the speed o' light. The longer and farther those metal missiles fell, the harder they hit. And our boy Hellios can lob them pretty hard."
The Captain watched as another missile hit the island. The impact was visible to the naked eye, and The Resolute rattled despite its two mile distance from the floating city.
"According to the experts I talked to, those things are releasing more energy than the bombs that destroyed Hiroshima. Only without any of that nasty radiation and weapons treaty bans."
"A green nuke. Very progressive of you, sir."
"We all have to do our part for the environment."
Faylin
Lord Darkstorm felt six successive strikes on his precious city, six acts of mass destruction and chaos, before they finally stopped.
"…how?" Lord Darkstorm gaped, as he looked at his ruined city. Hundreds of tons worth of molten slag hung above the city, like an ominous storm cloud, blotting out the sun. The city's defenses, to their credit, held for the most part but there were still giant cracks and seams in its once fabled defenses, and small droplets of scorching steel managed to slip through, falling like deadly dew drops.
And that was only the beginning. Darkstorm could see hundreds of buildings that had collapsed just from the shockwaves, and even the sturdier buildings that somehow survived had large cracks running up the faces that would worry even the most optimistic man.
Worse yet, the people he'd sworn to save ran through the streets like headless chickens, no doubt believing the sky was falling here, just as it had at home. The few people with their wits about them cried out for their family or dug into the ruins with bare bloody hands, trying to save their loved ones. Some wandered through the street, dumbstruck, almost as if they resigned themselves to death.
Lord Darkstorm looked out his balcony, high atop his station of power, and saw nothing but ruin.
"What have I…what have they done!?"
"My lord! What are your orders?!"
Lord Darkstorm spun on his heel, "I want a death curse leveled at the man who sent those missiles on our city! I will not let them get away with this! You are my greatest seer, Dominic, find him! "
Darkstorm's minion pointed towards a circle of mages, "We have already begun, my Lord. Whoever is responsible will die a terrible, painful death and there's nowhere they will be able to hide!"
Six mages, trained almost since birth chanted ancient words of power, and concentrated. Small, almost immaterial strips of emerald energy began to form in midair, and began to wrap around one another, forming a small sphere. While three of the mages concentrated on keeping that energy together, the other three formed a karmic locator spell, taking remnants off the molten metal that hung over the city. If anyone came within several miles of those weapons, the spell would seek them out and destroy them no matter where they hid!
With a final blessing and curse, the small bundle of mystical energy known to Darkstorm's people as 'World's End' was born. Since its discovery, not a single soul had ever survived the curse. From demi-gods to death Knights and dragons born before creation, not a single one had ever survived it.
The mages released the curse, and watched as it flew through the air like a divine avenger, and barrel into the air. The curse was connected to each mage, as they wanted to feel the death of the man who's rained such destruction on their last remaining safe haven.
The globe of energy passed through the ceiling, and into the air. But as the death curse cut through the clouds, they felt something they'd never felt before. Once their death curse hit the upper atmosphere, into the void of space, it began to unravel like a ball of twine.
Several seconds later, the death curse that had lain low hundreds of living legends and unholy engines of destruction for thousands of years before the written word on their home world struck Hellios.
The solar powered hero, genetically enhanced by xeno-biological samples that rendered him especially vulnerable to magic…sneezed.
On the ground below, Lord Darkstorm looked at each other in disbelief.
"It failed…" Darkstorm couldn't believe the words that slid past his lips.
"They can survive in the outer reaches," gasped one mage.
"No," Lord Darkstorm snarled. His temper was reaching boiling point as the size of his misstep became more and more obvious, "it's not possible!"
"Sire, they must have…!"
"You speak blasphemy!" Lord Darkstorm roared, spickle flying from his mouth, "nothing can live beyond the sky, no magic can survive that far from the source! It! Cannot! Happen!"
"Sire," said the bravest one, "it clearly has."
Darkstorm felt his entire world beginning to spin, as if he'd suddenly learned that somehow, cold was hot, two plus two was six or the human soul didn't actually exist. Emotionally, he just couldn't grasp the idea that anything other than lifeless rocks that fell from the sky could possibly survive that murky blackness above the clouds.
These people had accomplished the impossible. What other hells could they unleash on his beloved city?
Chapman casually examined his nails, "I think we've given them enough shock, Captain. Please signal the stealth team that it's time for the 'awe'."
The Captain signaled to his communications officer, "It's done, sir. But I think we actually started with awe."
"You're probably right, but 'awe and shock' doesn't have the same ring, I'm afraid."
"Sir, are we going to deploy Excalibur soon?" asked his personal assistant Delphi.
"Not just yet. We've got to face down a whole city, and no one's setting foot in that damn city until I've finished stacking the odds in our favor."
"Odds, or bodies sir?"
"Yes."
Junta sat perched five stories up, situated in between a row of gargoyles that decorated what he guessed to be the private home. He was high enough not to be seen, but still able to view the city's skyline with a simple pair of binoculars. He'd spent the last ten of the twelve hours trying to find the important parts of the city and determining how he could do the most damage. He'd napped one hour before choking down some emergency rations and drinking vitamin pills dissolved in warm orange Gatorade.
As far as infiltration missions went, Junta had done worse. He wasn't even homesick when he received the order to find cover came in. He found the tallest building and started climbing because when gravity is optional, heights give you the most time to think of a way out of a jam.
When Hellios finally finished, Junta didn't need a signal to know that it was his turn to bat. He turned to the lunch-box sized integrated weapons system he nick named 'Little Boy'. He pressed a button and a holographic keyboard came up. Junta typed a few commands, and then took a deep breath.
It wasn't hard to see why the use of this thing was considered a war crime anywhere on earth. Junta had been countless hours planting bombs and a few other surprises, yet the inventory indicated that it was still sixty percent full. Though Junta knew he could get a few billion just for what was left, he still intended to destroy the thing when this operation was over. Some things were just too dangerous to mess with.
"Alright Little Boy, lets smash the charts with your swan song…"
"We are not beaten yet," Lord Darkstorm growled, "we have hostages, we have weapons they have never seen before! We will not fall to these backwards savages!"
"My lord…" Messenger Mage Nodwick, Lord Darkstorm's most trusted envoy, stumbled into the room. He was a short man, unremarkable in many ways save for his dedication and common sense. Only now, his usually health white flesh tone was replaced with a sickly purple, "I regret to report that I…am unfit for duty."
"No!" Darkstorm rushed to the man's side, and though he wasn't too experienced with healing magics, cast the strongest rejuvenation spell he knew upon his trusted friend. For a moment Nodwick almost returned to full health. But then, just as quickly, he passed from the mortal coil.
Darkstorm was ready to call back the soul of his friend, to attempt resurrection, when he felt a chill travel down his spine. Educated as he was in the ways of magic, he knew immediately that whatever befell his friend was striking down citizens all across his city.
Skull the Blue Skinned collapsed in front of his elite warriors…
Miko, second in command of the Jade Paladins, fell to her knees in agony. She was in the middle of an impassioned speech about how the Gods smiled on their mission when she suddenly felt as though she was being ripped in two…
In the Pern Palace, the storied Dragon Riders ran from their barracks and into the stables, where their steeds were running amok. The might beasts, the smallest weighing over three tons, were clawing at the walls like beasts possessed. The older Dragon Riders, though with empathic bonds with their flying partners, could feel a ringing in their yet heard nothing.
Captain Redtopped, known throughout the city police-force as a steadfast man of honor and integrity, fell over seconds after removing a giant boulder off a small child. His men rushed to his side, but had no idea what was wrong, let alone how to help him.
Stormmaster Tarvek was in the middle of brewing his potions for the quickly approaching battle, when he realized he couldn't breathe. He looked towards his family members who were helping him in the lab, but he was blue in the face by the time they realized it wasn't some sad ploy for attention.
And it was only worse from there…
Persona Grata and Shiva, along with their new ally Cessilia glanced out the window. Their new ally choked back a sob when she saw all the devastation Hellios had inflicted on the city she so loved.
"I'm afraid it's decision time," Persona Grata said, "Noblewoman Cessilia, you said that your people would be willing to join us. Do you still stand by that? Because I fear that the damage to your people is just starting."
"The damage will never end so long as Darkstorm remains in power," Cessilia hissed. She brandished two swords from the armory Shiva and Persona Grata had liberated, "I won't degrudge a people for defending themselves. But we must move now, before Darkstorm recovers from your attack!"
Durklon Thunderbolt, a dwarf as powerful as he was short, lead his elite party towards the jails. Orders had been passed down from on high that the hostages were to be secured, and a dwarf never failed his duty so long as there was breath in his body.
He pushed past the front gates, too wound up from the destruction all around him to stop and wonder where the guards who were supposed to be at the front were. But as he stomped across the moat, his highly tuned Dwarven senses could feel a curious rumble, approaching fast.
Durklon watched in horror as the giant steel doors responsible for keeping the prison population captive fell like some dead tree.
An onslaught of elves, unicorns, centaurs, kobolds and every citizen of the realm poured out, with the disgraced Cessilia at the lead.
"For the true, for justice!" Cessilia roared, "do not stop until Darkstorm's blood has washed our blades!"
"That's an attitude I can get behind!" Shiva swept her swords outwards, and caught three of Durklon's men with slight scratches. Within seconds, a goblin, troll and dwarf fell over dead, their systems unable to handle the combination of poisons.
Shiva smiled, taking comfort in the fact that the Poison Dart Frog toxins were universally lethal, especially when mixed with a touch of arsenic.
"Persona Grata reports that they've freed the city's prison population," Delphi reported, "in addition to that, we managed to use the HERMES teleporter to extract the hostages."
"And the nano-trackers I left with Darkstorm?"
"Fully functioning, sir."
"Then send in Excalibur. Tell them I want Darkstorm. A piece of him or whole, I really don't care. We either need a bargaining chip or the head of their government gone. And the second they're inserted, notify Strange's team."
Lord Darkstorm felt a tremor down his spine, and found himself drawn to the window.
Looking down in the courtyard, he watched in horror as diamond blades sliced through loyal soldiers, columns of pure ebony swatted aside mighty knights and blasts of pure crimson tore through members of the Daywatch protecting his citadel while bursts of energy cast forth from silver gauntlets that tore through goblin and elven soldiers like arrows through parchment.
Excalibur stood back to back in his courtyard, tearing through his men as if they were reeds of overgrown grass, and the Master Mystic knew could be no coincidence that they somehow arrived so close to his own location. For Lord Darkstorm, it was the final straw.
"Forces of Faylin, pull back!" Darkstorm leapt out the window, and flexing an ounce of the magic that flowed through his blood, he came slamming down on the ground like a meteor, throwing Excalibur from their feet.
"Minions of Chapman!" Darkstorm roared, "I will use your bleached bones as a message to your master for this craven attack!"
"We're called Excalibur," Union Jack leveled his pistol at Darkstorm. His teammates stood behind him, tense and ready for action, "and we know the truth about what you're doing here, mate. Don't be getting high and mighty with us. Everything that's happened here today is all on your head, mate."
The look on Darkstorm's face said it all, even if it lasted for only a second.
Then, his face a mask of rage, Darkstorm gathered a terrifying amount of mystical energy into his hands and let it fly towards the United Nations team.
"Everyone move!" Scarlet Scarab threw himself forward and took the torrent of sheer power chest first. The scarab that gave him his power drank in the mystic energy like a desert swallowing a glass of water.
Scarlet Scarab could scarcely believe the sheer power that was flowing through his veins, inundating each cell. Almost reflexively, he pointed his hands towards Darkstorm, and simply let go of the power.
The leader of the Mystic city teleported out of the way instinctively, and a wave of sheer power exploded forth from Scarlet Scarab's hands. It tore out of the courtyard, through the stone structures it slammed into on the street and eventually out of the city itself. Chapman swore as he saw the blast of mystic energy lancing out of the north face of the city.
"Damn, I hope that's one for our side," Chapman remarked.
Inside the island itself, Scarlet Scarab was like a statue, barely able to move after seeing the devastation he'd just unleashed.
"What have I done…?" Scarlet Scarab could scarcely believe the sight before him. It was as if an entire section of the city had been ripped asunder by God himself. Buildings were torn in two, and wounded men, women and other assorted creatures were scattered across the ground as if there'd been an airstrike. Even the ground itself was scorched and cracked.
"Monster!" Red Knight swung his sword and slashed Scarab's side. The pain and shock drove him to his knees, and as he clutched the wound, Darkstorm's most loyal servant stood over him with his sword ready to remove his head, "you dare to attack civilians?"
"I didn't mean…"
A tentacle of darkforce energy wrapped itself around Red Knight's wrist, and when he tried to pull himself free, Commando's feet slammed into his chest and sent him flying backwards.
"I see honor of single combat escapes you as well," Red Knight hissed as he picked himself up.
"Yup!" Commando released a burst of fire from his customized M-16, shooting Red Knight's sword out of his hands, "all yours, kid!"
Silverclaw shifted into the shape of a snake, and coiled her body around Red Knight's throat, "You're going to pay for every drop of blood your sword took!"
"Brother!" Darkstorm was about to unleash a spell that would have torn Silverclaw away from his most loyal follower, a searing hot white light sliced the ground in front of him.
"Damn magic is screwing up my targeting computers," Cybermancer grumbled. She raised her gauntlets a little higher, and Darkstorm barely summoned the Emerald Shield of Ancestors before it was hit with an onslaught of mini-missiles, lasers and bullets. Darkstorm found himself both terrified and fascinated by the weapons.
But while he was focused on Cybermancer's attack, Sabra and Kamau tackled him from behind and began to pummel him.
"It's not working!" Kamau shouted as he felt his trench knives fail to get any traction.
"Keep trying!" Sabra shouted, "we have to keep him off balance!"
"Then you have failed!"
With a single gesture, Darkstorm threw both of them off. He climbed to his feet, heartened that his protection spells were still working.
"You have no idea my power!" Darkstorm pointed his hand towards Silverclaw, and a thin line of purple lightning blasted her off Red Knight, "no idea how foolish it was to attack me here!"
Union Jack fired off two quick shots from his pistol that hit Darkstorm right in his eyes. Whatever magic that protected him from mortal harm did nothing about the light and shock that accompanied the shots.
"We know, and we're not scared," Union Jack stated calmly, "surrender now, or we start to get real nasty. We all know the truth, so don't you dare expect any mercy."
Darkstorm looked at Excalibur with genuine moral outrage and spat, "Bring it on!"
The Temple of Crossing
Henry Porter fidgeted as he stood at his post. Just inside the chamber he and his fellow rival from the Unseen Academy Dracon were charged with watching the Eternal Portal. It was their only link to the homeland they were so desperately trying to save, one small part of a greater hole that would enable them to hide their way home again.
How that responsibility fell onto two new graduates, albeit the most skilled of their year, Henry had no idea. But it was a duty he swore he'd be willing to lay down his life for.
And when he sensed the approach of Dr. Strange, Henry thought that not even his life would be enough to stop the man.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Dr. Strange said politely, "I would like your permission to enter the chamber behind you. As I hope you can sense, I am a man of extraordinary power. Furthermore, I am the sorcerer supreme of this reality. I assure you, I am only here to help."
"Help us to our grave perhaps!" spat Dracon. Henry wasn't as sure, but with his entire society at stake couldn't risk it. Both youths summoned an impressive amount of mystical energy, and pointed their wands at Dr. Strange.
"Release!"
Dr. Strange stood there nonchalant as the energy harmlessly bounced off him and slammed into both boys, throwing them against the gate they were charged with defending.
"They sure were trigger happy," commented a young woman behind Strange.
"Indeed they were," Dr. Strange sighed, "please drop your concealment spell, Wanda. There's no more need."
"Heh, I wonder how those boys would have reacted to me," mused Illyana Raspuntina, otherwise known as the teleporting mutant Magik. She held her soul sword lazily in one hand.
"It's probably best that we remain in ignorance," remarked Michael Twoyoungmen, better known as Shaman of Alpha Flight.
"I can't believe this society," said Elizabeth Twoyoungman, AKA Talisman of Alpha Flight and Shaman's daughter, "there's almost as much power here as there is stupidity!"
"Magic doesn't automatically equal skill," observed Wanda Maximoff, world renowned Avenger known as the Scarlet Witch, "that concealment spell was a thousand times harder than my regular hexes. I can throw those around like candy, but a spell that actually does what it was intended to…"
"And you did fairly well," Dr. Strange said, "there were some flaws, but I was curious if the guards would have detected something amiss. Like you and others, it appears that their ability to use magic is far greater than their ability to listen and understand it."
"So what's the plan, Doc?" Magik rested her soul sword on her shoulder, "kick ass and take names?"
"No, that is Excalibur's responsibility," Dr. Strange replied evenly, "you and Talisman are going to assist me. The rulers of this city are using a dangerous dimensional anchor that if improperly defused could destroy our entire world on several levels."
"So how come the defenses suck so much?" Illyana asked as she motioned outwards to the empty courtyard, "those two chumps were going to protect something that important?"
"They might not realize its significance," Shaman offered.
"Or it's a trap," Scarlet Witch proposed.
"I sense no one inside, but we will be cautious," Dr. Strange said, "Shaman, Wanda, I need you two to prevent anyone from interfering, or Ancient One forbid, take over for us if we're killed."
It went unsaid that the good Doctor was just being polite. If they made a mistake in dealing with the dimensional anchor, everyone would be dead before they even realized there was an issue.
"I'm beginning to think this team isn't so bad!"
Shiva laughed as her knife slit the throat of an orange-skinned goblin dressed in the robes of a monk. A target rich environment was a rare gift, and she was intent on squeezing every last drop of blood possible.
"Try to show some level of restraint, please," Persona Grata remarked as she slapped away one foe, "there's no need to litter the ground with corpses."
"I must agree with your golem friend," Cessilia said sharply, "my people are being oppressed, even if they are not aware of it. It's not their fault, it's the society they were born into."
Persona Grata noticed Shiva hesitating for a moment, before finally silently agreeing. The Indian assassin sheathed her blades, and to Persona Grata's surprise, started fighting with just her hands, feet and elbows.
Persona took note of that as she fought. Shiva was without a doubt a loose cannon, but it was increasingly obvious that there were some things she still cared about, some lines she wouldn't willingly cross.
"Treasonous curs, all of you!" Persona Grata turned her attention to a Centaur who was barreling towards them. Persona Grata aimed her personal pistol, and fired two rapid shots, taking out his knees.
"God, I hope they get better medical treatment than regular horses," Persona Grata muttered. The sentient Life Model Decoy knew better than to dwell on it, but she still loathed the harm she was doing to these people. But then, how could anyone with a heart feel otherwise?
Guishen didn't blink as he put two bullets through the brain pans of four elves.
He moved through the panic filled streets calmly, killing anyone that was part of Faylin's police or militia that was unlucky enough to pass him in this chaos.
The streets were filled with the dirt of crumbled buildings, debris covering everything like a light snow, while fathers dug through rubble to find their children and orphaned children screamed for aid. Block after block of the magical city was devastated, and people ran every which way trying to figure out what to do. The air stunk of smoke and burned flesh.
Yet Guishen barely took notice of any of that. Two guardsmen rushed towards him, and Guishen didn't even bother to see if they were coming at his direction, or looking for him.
He put a bullet through five eyes total, and casually strolled past the corpses without a second glance. The only emotion that Guishen felt was the hope that the main strikeforce was enjoying his luck.
"Oh freakin' hell, ain't this a classic," Commando muttered, as Excalibur found themselves surrounded by sixteen separate illusions of Darkstorm.
"Cybermancer?" Union Jack asked without missing a beat.
The Chinese heroine took a moment to scan the spectrums, and within seconds she saw through Darkstorm's illusions and sent a barrage of lasers that sent the man stumbling back, his fdefense and healing spells struggling to repair the damage done.
"Hit him!" Union Jack ordered.
Darkstorm barely had enough time to create a mystic shield before beams of crimson energy and darkforce slammed into it, pushing him back. He began to sweat, but a small smile managed to pass his lips as he saw the 32nd Groundpounders brigade charging towards his position.
Then he heard thunder that sounded wrong.
He looked up, and saw a fireball shoot down from the sky, and land behind the elite troops. There was an explosion of light and sound that even Excalibur had to take notice of.
When the smoke and dust finally settled, Darkstorm saw a glowing man hovering over the crater, hands on his hip in a smug 'Yes, I did that' manner.
"Don't worry, your reinforcements are still around," Hellios said smugly, and gestured to the smoke, "there's some there, a little here and I think some right under your foot."
Lord Darkstorm's face went livid as he channeled more power than any leader of Faylin had ever taken from the land before. But Scarlet Scarab slammed into him from behind, and the blast missed Hellios by a dozen feet.
"Your power is no great mystery to us," Darkstorm watched in horror as Scarlet Scarab tore free a golden gauntlet from his enemy's ancestral armor, a feat that was thought impossible before now, "thousands of your people are dead, their city devastated. I beg you, surrender! And we can begin to help them. Fighting will only prolong their suffering!"
The idea of just accepting defeat, accepting responsibility for all the death and suffering of his people filled Darkstorm with such a white hot rage, that he barely needed to speak a single encantation to throw Scarlet Scarab off.
Darkstorm rose with such rage that it could be literally felt, and silently screamed as he unleashed every ounce of magic he could muster.
Darkstar reacted just a second quicker, and created a wall of darkforce between her team and Darkstorm. The wave of magic met the wall of darkforce, and the subsequent explosion threw most of Excalibur backwards through the air.
"Think we made him mad," Commando observed drly.
Less than a city block away, Sabra and Kamau clashed with Red Knight with such intensity that they barely noticed the nearby battle.
There was no banter, no scathing remarks. Between the three of them, the years of battle and experience had hardened them into engines of destruction that moved with the purpose of ballet dancers.
Red Knight swept his sword in an arc, and created a wall of flame that Sabra hesitated to test. But before he could launch an attack, Kamau slammed into him from the side. The African Warrior ground his forearm against Red Knight's throat, but his foe slammed his fist into Kamau's kidneys and threw him off as if he were a morning blanket.
Kamau went flying, and Red Knight just barely rolled to the side before Sabra's leg came crashing down where his chest once was.
For a man in heavy armor, he's amazingly agile, Sabra noted as Red Knight leapt to his feet.
Red Knight's sword swung for her throat, and Sabra stepped under it easily, and delivered two rapid punches to his stomach before Red Knight brought his elbow crashing down on her shoulder. Red Knight flipped his sword in his hand, but before he could ram it through Sabra's neck, Kamau wrapped his chain around throat and pulled him backwards.
Red Knight swung his sword backwards, where it pierced Kamau's side like a mystical sword through a stone. The former Child Soldier grunted, but his grip remained firm, until Red Knight threw his head backwards and his helmet smashed into his enemy's face.
Kamau had a pain tolerance stronger than ninety percent of the population, but even he had limits. His grip on the chain went slack for just long enough, and Red Knight tore himself free.
The noble Knight of Faylin spun on his heels, pointed his sword at Kamau and unleashed a gout of searing, white hot flame. Kamau only barely saw it coming, and only just moved out of the way. With the exception of his right hand, he was fine.
But his right hand, caught in just the edge of the blast, was seared to the bone, just five inches past the wrist.
Red Knight hesitated, never before having (intentionally) inflicted such a terrible wound, and certainly never seeing anyone endure such a thing without a cry of pain.
"Yield," Red Knight pointed his sword at Kamau's head. His instincts took over, demanding he offer either the mercy of surrender or a quick death, "and I promise to have you healed."
"Yield…?" The edges of his vision were blurry, but Kamau saw his enemy with unparallel intensity. He saw a small chink in the Knight's armor, just below where his bellybutton would be, and still held one diamond blade in his remaining hand, "if I knew how, I swear I would."
Kamau smashed his boneless hand into the ground, where it shattered in an explosion of white and marrow, leaving only a rugged jagged point where there had once a joint. He shot forward, and jammed the bone deep into small opening, where it neatly sliced through muscle and tissue. With his remaining hand, Kamau stabbed his foe in the side. For the most part, Red Knight's armor held, but it was painful as hell.
Red Knight saw and felt all this happen, of course, but he was so stunned by what he saw that for several seconds he simply couldn't move as his mind struggled to process the events. But pain was a great motivator
"Animal!" Red Knight grabbed Kamau by the throat and hurled him backwards.
"Kamau!" Sabra tackled Red Knight from behind, and wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and squeezed. The mystic armor provided some defense, but not nearly enough, "regenerate! I'll hold him off!"
The African Warrior sank the bone into the ground, and began concentrating. His powers pulled the earth from the ground, and began to transform it into muscle, bone and nerves. The process was agonizing, but Kamau had endured it a hundred times in the past.
Dr. Strange better be having more luck, Kamau thought darkly as he watched Red Knight dislodge Sabra. He sprang forward,
"Excalibur better be having more luck," Dr. Strange muttered as sweat trickled down his brow. He wished that he was back in an OR, where someone with a free hand would wipe from his brow and keep the sweat from stinging his eyes, but Dr. Strange had long since learned to just ignore the distraction.
Especially now, with everything that was on the line. Even for his usual line of work, what he had to do was nothing less than monumental. He was mystically channeling not only the power he held as Sorcerer Supreme, but the mystical diffusing abilities of Talisman in conjunction with the mutant mystic Magik, and her powers of inter-dimensional travel. The two young women sat Indian style while his hands rested on their shoulders. They chanted a minor incantation that mixed their power with Dr. Strange's own strength, while Strange controlled it all with just the power of his mind.
While he was channeling their mystical might, Dr. Strange was more powerful than any mystic on earth. Yet he still wasn't certain that it was enough.
Manipulating magical energy always depended on the energy being employed. Some power was granted by mystic entities in return for a show of respect or even a prearranged agreement. Other energy was just always there, generated by living people with each breath, waiting to be employed and others was power created by mystic focuses, like his own Eye of Agamotto.
And to facilitate their travel to this reality, Strange quickly realized that these people had mixed every mystical energy they could think of, without regard to how the energies would mix and change. The floating orb of power floating all too close to Dr. Strange was like a quilt made out of landmines and hand grenades.
Only, instead of triggering an explosion, would wrong move would trigger a big bang.
As if that weren't bad enough, Dr. Strange was operating on theory and instinct. His mentor, the Ancient One, never even hinted to him on how to deal with a situation quite like this. Strange suspected that was because his Master never would have believed that anyone could be so foolish as to try to bend the universe using the mystical equivalent of bail and duct tape. Even the lowest demon wouldn't do something so foolhardy, for fear of erasing themselves and anywhere they might try to reach.
Dr. Strange carefully moved one string of mystical energy over the other, negated the very existence of a second and strengthened a third. Slowly, gradually, he was untangling the web of magic that was literally bending an aspect of reality the wrong way.
Dr. Strange didn't know what it was, but when he began working on an innocuous thread, that he felt beginning to turn wrong. He felt a cold chill run down his back just moments before he felt a wave of hostile magic wash over him.
"A trap," Dr. Strange hissed.
"Oh crap," the sudden malevolent energy snapped both Talisman and Magik out of the group-mind they'd formed with Dr. Strange, "that's not good."
"What do we do now?" Talisman asked, as the orb of mystic energy and pure reality began to glow and change color like a maniac disco ball, "if the spells around that thing release improperly…!"
"Our planet will be erased," Dr. Strange said, eerily calm. Up until now, every bit of spell craft he'd encountered were sloppy, poorly crafted things that would shame first year apprentices. Yet the spell inadvertently triggered, that was ingenious, something he might not have seen even if he was on guard for it.
And as he watched, the mystical trap was unraveling every spell that allowed Faylin to travel to this world, that helped the warped bit of reality in check.
Dr. Strange cleared his throat as the two mystics looked at him worriedly, "We should leave."
Scarlet Scarab's fist slammed into Darkstorm's jaw, and sent the man tumbling backwards.
The Egyptian hero watched the Mystic Master of Faylin wiped the blood from his chin. Darkstorm prepared to return the blow, but for a moment hesitated.
"Something wrong?" Scarlet Scarab knew that look, that hesitation. He'd fought villains before who were fond of diversions, of open attacks to mask covert goals.
"No," Darkstorm looked over the horizon, "Something's just been made right."
Despite his better judgment, Scarlet Scarab followed Darkstorm's gaze, and saw a building radiating the purest white he'd ever seen. The city began to shake, and he could feel a vibration so powerful his teeth ached.
"Something's wrong!" Silverclaw screamed as she covered her ears, trying to force out the piercing sounds that overwhelmed her animal senses, while her gut churned in response to the wild magic that was churning about, "this shouldn't be happening!"
Cybermancer rocketed into the air, and poured every ounce of juice her armor could spare into her sensors. Suzi barely understood half of the information she got back, but she understood enough to know that the mega-tons of power that were leaking from the city was anything but good news.
"Finally!" Darkstorm laughed in soulful, blissful relief, but to Excalibur he sounded like a manic, "This is just the beginning, Excalibur! You will look back on this day, and weep for what you have wrought!"
Before Darkstorm or Excalibur could even move, white light washed over them.
The Resolute
"…science division can't make heads of tails of the energy!"
"…it's creasing, oh God the power is increasing! It's over nine thousand!"
"…power is off the charts!"
Delphi turned to Chapman, who wasn't even making an effort to reign in the chaos of the bridge. The blinding light show that was produced by the floating island had thrown them into a panic, "Sir, what do we do?"
Chapman just sighed and slumped in his chair, "Recall Excalibur. We can't leave them there, no matter what. I'll be damned if we leave our men behind as our last act!"
"And then?"
"The only thing we can do. We die."
And before there could be any further discussion, the white light swept over and through the Helicarrier, and kept on going.
Next issue: To be concluded…?