I still don't own the rights, alas. Thanks to Danrilor for his review. Anyone else out there?
He hadn't been sure about this, but when he'd heard the police report, it had seemed like fate. He landed in front of the bank, and gesturing to the tellers to stay quiet, he walked through the bank, to the ripped bank vault. There, hard at work on the locks of safe-deposit boxes, was Stanley Steward, aka Speed Demon, aka The Whizzer. He was using a solvent to melt through locks in seconds. "Pretty clever," said Hyperion in conversational tone.
Stanley turned around, but apparently relaxed when he saw his former teammate. "Hey there, good buddy. Whaddaya mean?" He poured more solvent onto another the locks.
Hyperion shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, I'm assuming your plan is to move in on the bank, while the police and superheroes are all busy with the world-conquerors."
Stanley laughed. "Close, man, but not close enough." He turned back to the lock. "No, I'm moving in now 'cos I have an idea of what's coming. If Kang takes over, it's gonna mean cops with lasers and anti-gravity tear-gas, and like that. I'm getting in while I can."
"I have another proposition for you," said Hyperion, coming further into the room.
"Huh. Lemme guess, this something to do with this new buddy-buddy thing you got goin' on with the UN, right?" Hyperion nodded. "Sorry, man. I just can't stop laughin'." He turned to face Hyperion, smiling. "The mighty Hyperion! Last Son of Prometheon! Reduced to speeches and letter-writin' campaigns!" He shrugged his shoulders. "See, back when I was a biochemist, the conferences were the only drawback. And now I got this well – patience isn't something I'm good at, y'see? But thanks for the offer."
Suddenly, his hands moved, throwing the rest of the acid at Hyperion. As Hyperion moved, Stanley's hands moved again, taking a cartridge from his belt, opening it to revealed a set of throwing discs, which, in less than a second were flying through the air –
To where Hyperion had been. Now, Stanley was being held up against the wall, and as he looked into Hyperion's glowing eyes, he knew that the only thing standing between his brain and daylight was Hyperion's patience.
"Ok, let me rephrase this," said Hyperion, conversationally. "Yes, the UN has asked me to put together a team to fight Kang. Yes, I immediately thought of you, and I thought of including you, for old time's sake. But yes, I also that you're wanted in three countries for charges ranging from theft to murder, so no, I won't have any qualms about breaking your neck. So do you want in or not?"
Stanley grinned. "Well, when you put it like this, how can I refuse?"
"Alrighty, True Believers, it's everyone's favourite neighbourhood – oh." Hyperion and Stanley both turned, to see Spider-Man standing in the door of the vault. "Pipped at the punch, huh?" he said. He sounded exhausted. "So what're you doin' here, Speedy?"
"Oh, this guy talked me into savin' the world, I think," said Stanley, as Hyperion let go of his throat.
"The UN asked me to put together a team to fight Kang," said Hyperion. "Can I sign you up?"
Spider-Man shook his hand at them. "Sorry, man. Too many people depending on me, y'know?" He stood silent for a second. "But I think I can give you some names, if you want…"
As Hobie Brown, aka the Prowler, saw the brownstone on the other side of the street, he thought, for the hundredth time, that it could be a trap. And for the hundredth time, he thought: No, Spider-Man would never set me up like this.
Checking the distance, he jumped, allowing the new anti-gravity harness he'd been working on to keep him aloft, as he drifted towards the opposite wall. The claws in his gloves dug into the stone, and he climbed up to the window. He knocked.
The window opened. Standing there was a white red-haired guy in a red costume with a yellow cape. On his chest was an atom symbol. "You're the Prowler, right?" Hobie nodded. The man grinned, and offered Hobie his hand. "Howd'y'do. I'm Hyperion. Spider-Man told me he'd ask you to come. Why don't you come in? I'll introduce everyone."
As Hobie climbed in, he looked around the room. In one corner, ears in a Walkman, was a man in a black costume with red eye-lenses. In the centre, there were three people talking, two women and one man. One of the women was tall, with black hair and green eyes; the other was decked out in silver armour, and she carried a staff with a glowing end. The man had a light purple costume, with a fin on his head, and he carried a glowing sword. There was a man in a suit, glancing at his watch. And finally, in one of the chairs, there was a young female Skrull, reading a Robert Jordan novel. At the sound of the window closing, they all stopped and looked at him.
"Alright, everyone," said Hyperion, "this is the Prowler. Prowler, this is the Whizzer," he pointed to the man in the corner, who stood up, "Sersi," the black-haired woman smiled at him, "Swordsman and Magdelena," the couple came forward to shake hands, "and this is Zcann." The Skrull woman, having found a bookmark, stood up to greet him.
"So let me get this straight," said the man in the suit, "You've put together a team consisting of an aliens, a super-criminal, an Eternal, and two extradimensional soldiers, and you think that bringing in a part-time vigilante will bring it all into balance again?"
"Yeah, that's the thing," said Hobie, embarrassed. "I just came to say that I couldn't come. See, yesterday, I was patrolling my neighbourhood, when I was approached by Blade – you know, the vampire hunter?" They had. "Well, he told me that a vampire called Hunger had taken over a local HYDRA cell, and was planning to take Kang up on his offer. In fact, I'm due over there in an hour."
"If we can help you, will you join?" said Hyperion. He was hoping that Prowler would join. They needed someone who was a part of the world. They needed Prowler.
He stood there for a second, then shrugged. "Yeah, that sounds fair."