Kate Bishop dropped her backpack on the floor as she pulled off her shoes. She had just got home from school. She had barely been able to control her anger today during her 'Skrull-Human History' class.
"How was school, honey?" she heard her mom say.
"Good," she lied as she stomped up the stairs. She couldn't tell if she was angrier about the obvious misrepresentations that were peddled in that class, or the fact that no one seemed to question them. Instead, everyone seemed to dutifully repeat the 'appropriate' answers back to the teacher:
'Human nation-states were nothing more complicated than armed encampments of millions of people; these states existed in a complicated form of primitive tribal warfare'
'Human nations existed in a state of nature, as described by Hobbes, until the Skrulls uplifted them to the next level of societal development.'
'Integration into the galactic community is the next necessary step for any advanced civilization, in the same way that tribes and clans developed into nation-states.'
'Due to their innate flaws of violence and xenophobia, humans had stalled at the developmental level of nation-states.'
'By the beneficence of the Skrull Empire, millions were saved by a guiding hand that could manage this tumultuous stage of development.'
She was livid at all of it.
It felt like you couldn't get away from it, when just over a year ago if you asked anyone if they would accept having alien overlords, they would have laughed. But somehow everything just changed. All of a sudden, the 'good' people talked about how thankful they were to be saved by the Skrulls, and people seemed to trip over themselves to show how supportive they were.
She still remembered how things were, and she hadn't given up. She was part of the resistance (a name she really meant to improve on) but they seemed to be having no effect. To make things worse, a couple weeks ago, Ms. Marvel and her cell were caught by the Skrulls. Without the experienced heroes, and with no sign of improvement, the resistance in New York felt like it was little more than a few smoldering coals in a heap of ash. Any day now she fully expected to see her erstwhile leaders slaughtered on live-TV; more victims to the Skrull arena.
As Kate stormed into her room, she froze. Her hand felt stuck on the door she was just about to slam.
Standing in the corner was the massive armoured form of Doctor Doom. Her voice caught in her throat, but she regained her wits; enough at least to remember where her bow was. Unfortunately, it was leaning against her desk on the other side of the room.
With a deliberate slowness, Doom raised one finger to his mouth to give a 'quiet' sign, and his other hand pointed at the door. For some reason, she gently closed it.
She was in a state of shock at the moment, but if she was to have any chance she needed to buy time to get her bow. She tried to inch towards her weapon in a nonchalant fashion. The question as to whether it could even harm Doom was one she decided to not consider.
"Why-" Kate stammered as her voice caught in her throat again, before she steeled herself. "What do you want?"
"I am not here to harm you, young one." Doom said, crossing his arms. "I know you are in the resistance. As am I."
"Bull; you're working with the Skrulls. I saw you kill the Fantastic Four on TV," she said, leaning against her desk. Just a few more inches to the bow...
He shook his head. "A fabrication by the aliens. In fact, I have been working with Ms. Marvel and Warmachine, among others, to set up the human resistance. Who do you think developed the technology that allowed you to discern the identity of the Skrulls?"
She looked away for a moment in thought. He seemed to know enough that he may be telling the truth. Or the aliens had somehow extracted the knowledge from Ms. Marvel after weeks of mind probes. Or whatever they did to captured prisoners.
Doom continued, "Do you think it is so absurd that shape changing aliens would be able to impersonate me, the way they did during the treaty signing of the world powers. It has always been the Skrull way to sow dissention and mistrust. Besides, I hardly think that this is the method they would use to eliminate you."
Kate relaxed only a little. Assuming he was being truthful, this was still Doctor Doom. She was within arm's reach of her bow now too. "Ok, but that still doesn't explain why you're here."
"The day of our revolution has come."
"I beg your pardon?" she said.
"For the past year, I have laid the groundwork for a global uprising. Your cell in New York was one of those projects. But with Ms. Marvel captured, I fear that the plan could be compromised. We must act," he explained.
"The resistance has been scattered here, the Skrulls have been all over us."
"Which is why I have come to assist you. You have kept the torch of faith in our cause lit during the dark. Now we shall walk in the light."
"I can't believe this," Kate said, as she struggled to process all this.
Doom pointed at her, "Ms. Marvel said that if anything ever happened to her, I was to find Kate Bishop. Was her trust in you misplaced?"
"No..."
"Then you have your choice: fight today, or do nothing and be slowly ground down in the shadows. Today, I will be fighting. Do as you will, but never claim you were not given a chance." He opened his cloak and pulled out a quiver of technologically-advanced looking arrows. "-And besides, someone needs to use these."
Kate felt pride swell in her. For Ms. Marvel, an actual Avenger, to think so highly of her was almost unbelievable.
She reached and took the proffered quiver, looking at each of the arrows with interest. She slung the it and picked up her bow as she turned back to him. "What do I need to do?"
Doom nodded, "Gather all whom you can. We launch our attack shortly..."
Cario Askari took a gulp from his metal canteen. It was old and banged up, with old flaking tan paint showing the dull metal underneath. It was late in the day, and the sun had only started going down; the shadows in the mountainous valley were getting long. He and his fellow warriors had been recovering over the past week after a large attack on another alien convoy.
He gazed off into nothing as he mused about the it.
The American 'Warmachine' had provided them with a stock of high-power energy weapons, and his fighters had put them to good use. The weapons were large and heavy, more so than he liked, but the results were undeniable. The Stark-tech weapons could core the Skrull vehicles, and even the alien battle tanks were felled with flanking shots to the weaker side armour. It was a massacre, and he and his fighters had melted away into the hills.
Cario had spent most of the evening planning with his captains and lieutenants. Runners had to be sent to hand carry messages to other militias, and there was the question of how long they could utilize these weapons. Besides being heavy, they were complicated. How long they could be maintained was an important question as to the pacing of their attacks.
Something caught his eye as he pondered.
In the sky he could see a quickly moving light with a trail behind it. After years of war, he didn't even hesitate.
"Incoming! Missile!" he yelled as he dove behind nearby sandbags. There was a flurry of activity as the fighters grabbed their weapons and dove behind whatever they could, or just flat if they were in the open. While this area was no fortress, they had established some basic fortifications.
He dared to look up for a moment as the missile came down. He quickly tucked his face again as he saw it was just about to impact.
After a few, long seconds, he lifted his head quizzically. There was no explosion, no wave of energy, not even the loud thud of a dud. Someone yelled nearby, "Intruder!"
There was another flurry as he heard the cocking of numerous small arms, including his own AK. He leapt to a kneeling position, using the sandbags as best he could. He looked into the valley, and saw an armoured figure standing there. Half a moment later, his heart leapt into his throat as he realized it was Doctor Doom!
"FIRE!" he ordered. He eyed his sight, putting it center of the man's torso as staccato gunfire erupted around him. He flicked the weapon to repetition and his rifle kicked as he fired aimed shots.
Doom raised his hands, and the bullets caught in a blue field, stopping nearly a foot in front of him. Still, the militants poured fire into him.
Cario saw the tracer round he loaded at the bottom of his magazine fire down range, and he ducked down to ready another magazine when he heard Doom speaking Arabic, "I come seeking an audience."
The fact that Doom was speaking to them in their own language did mean something, even if was just a chance for him to get some of his fighters out. He looked around quickly, and saw one of his lieutenants a few feet away. The man was peeking over some cover as he loaded a new mag.
Cario stood up and yelled, "Cease fire! Cease fire!"
The order resounded down the line of militants as the sporadic cough of automatic weapons fire died down. He slung his rifle and stepped out of his cover. Doom fixed his gaze at him as he lowered his gauntlets, and the bullets harmlessly pattered down into the sand.
As Cario walked out he leaned down to whisper to his incredulous lieutenant, "Salah, get the heavy weapons. We may need to buy time for our brothers to escape."
"God is Greater," Salah replied, nodding sternly, before he jogged back to their caves.
The walk down to the valley was agonizing. Cario did not fear dying. He had long ago accepted he had put his fate in God's hands. But he wasn't immune to the cold tightness in the chest that came from adrenalin mixed with anticipation. He steadied his breathing as he stopped a short distance from Doom.
"What do you want?" he said as calmly as he could muster. In the worst case, he would buy time with his life for his brothers to escape this place.
"The day to rise up against the aliens is here. I have coordinated a global uprising, through my allies such as Warmachine, to prepare the scattered forces of mankind to cast down the Skrulls. The moment is nearly here, and I have chosen you to lead the forces in this area."
Cario listened carefully before answering, "I have no way of knowing you speak the truth. You could simply be trapping my people; convincing them to gather their strength to be wiped out in a single battle. You have been cooperating with the invaders."
"Do you doubt that Doom could annihilate you if he willed it? I have found you easily enough," Doom answered, steel in his voice. "Instead I have come to assist you and your warriors."
Cario rested his hands on the butt of his slung AK as he considered the words of Doom. This was most assuredly not the way he expected this day to go. "My people have been divided from war between foreigners for longer than either of us have been alive. How will this be different? You are not the first European to come here with such designs."
"Because unlike those kings, presidents and prime ministers, I have come to join you in the fires of battle. Together, we shall wage Jihad, and forge the bond that only be created in the crucible of war."
"You come to wage Jihad with us?" Cario answered, his tone incredulous despite his efforts to sound neutral. No; this was not how he expected the day to go at all.
"Indeed."
"You are not Muslim."
"And this makes it impossible for me to fight in the service of God? Longer than this land has been divided, man has fought holy war for righteous causes, though under different names. Here and now, we fight under the title of Jihad," He gestured widely, before continuing. "When the Prophet, peace be upon him, was tasked to cleanse the infidel by God, did he shirk?"
Cario shook his head as he replied, "You speak to me of Jihad, and now you would compare yourself to God?"
Doom crossed his arms angrily, "Of course not! But I am a messenger, and I come to offer you the chance to retake your land, and to secure your place in a New Order."
He looked back at his fighters. They had slowly been coming from their cover, drawn in by the intensity of the negotiation. They had been fighting for their whole lives, against one empire or another. Could he deny them the chance to finally put down their weapons? The offer Doom made was clear.
He raised his rifle in the air, yelling to his men, "God is Greater!"
"God is Greater!" came the resounding answer as shots were fired into the sky.