Earth 2018.90214:


NEWS ON THE MARCH!

WAR REPORT: THE EASTERN FRONT

The struggle for freedom continues on as our boys fight a seemingly unrelenting enemy in the form of the Empire of Japan!

More often than not, the scourge of the Japanese continues to oppress the native populations of China, Vietnam, Korea, Russia, and the Australian continent through its conscription and usage of Mutants!

Yes, what you see are children who wield weird and terrifying powers on par with our own superheroes! By indoctrinating them at a young age, the Japanese use their gifts to wreak havoc on Allied forces. The head of the Holy Army of the Japanese Empire, General Nana Shimura, issued this statement:

"Should the forces of the Allies continue to impede the Empire's attempts to liberate itself from Western tyranny and unite through the Greater East Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere, then we shall use the gifts of the gods to lay waste to them! No Japanese soul shall rest until our victory is achieved, as is our right!"

Neither will we give up. American men from all walks of life continue to sign up in order to drive back these terrifying titans of genetic might, many of whom descended from Japanese immigrants, risking their livelihoods to achieve the American Dream!

President Franklin D. Roosevelt condemned the rumors of interning Japanese citizens, declaring these men and women Americans regardless of their background!

OBITUARY: PRINCE NAMOR OF ATLANTIS

Prince Namor, born of two worlds, died tragically on May 28th, 1941.

Sometimes an enemy, sometimes an ally, Prince Namor dedicated himself to ending tyranny throughout the world. Even someone as alien as him could not stand idly as Germany, Japan, and Italy continued their heinous conquest of the free world.

Seeking to end the bloodshed in Asia, Namor led a massive tidal wave to its shores, only to be intercepted by Nana Shimura.

The battle was long and brutal, ending with the destruction of Okinawa. There, Prince Namor lost his life to the Japanese superwoman.

A funeral at sea, attended by his friends, allies, people, and long-time lover Betty Dean, sent Namor off into his people's afterlife. Captain America told reporters that Namor was one of the bravest men he knew, and he would not rest until his killers saw justice!

DEATH OF A TYRANT

Hitler is dead! Yes, indeed the scourge of Europe has been eliminated in his den of evil, Berlin, scorched off the face of the Earth by our superpowered ally, the Human Torch!

While our boys were helping our European allies fight back against the Nazi scourge, our superpowered allies went to do their part in the war effort!. Many made the ultimate sacrifice during the first few weeks. Heroes like the Phantom Reporter, the Vision, the Blue Blade, the Angel, the American Avenger, and Trojak the Tiger Man were lost in the hail of Nazi bullets.

But, with the aid of the Invaders and our very own Captain America, the United States was able to push through enemy lines and advance the Allies deep into enemy territory!

This also revealed the many atrocities committed by Hitler and his ilk against the people they considered to be inferior. Slaughterhouses known as "concentration camps" were littered across Europe, mercilessly killing Jews and others before incinerating their bodies and dumping their remains in mass graves. The Human Torch was the first at the scene at the camp of Bitburg. The flaming android, bearing witness to the horror, flew straight into Berlin and burned the city into ash. Hitler was only one of the casualties that day, and the android still stands in the center of the devastation, unmoving and unblinking even to allies like his young partner Toro.

But the Nazi scourge has not been burnt out yet! Remnants remain, led by those such as the evil Red Skull, Helmut Zemo, and Joseph Goebbels. Captain America and the allies continue to struggle against this disorganized lot of fiends in hopes of truly liberating Europe!

We're with you, Cap!

THE HOME FRONT

Even as our able-bodied men go abroad to continue the fight against evil spearheaded by our superhumans, some superheroes remain in our borders to combat against familiar threats.

Some Mutants seek to cause destruction, claiming that they are the next stage of human evolution! As tension grows, more and more Americans claim that they need to be moved to remote reservations not unlike the ones supposedly for Americans of Japanese descent.

Most superheroes have now revealed their identities to the American government, seeking to squash subversive elements such as the mob, petty criminals, and supervillains.

One, however, continues her fight against more insidious foes.

The Spider-Woman! A dark avenger of the night wearing a rather risque outfit, she fires both webs and bullets at Axis saboteurs and squashes local chapters of the Klu Klux Klan. Aided by her young partner, Spider-Girl, and a plethora of gadgets, she fights for the unfortunate souls of society and the United States government!

But one question remains...

Who is she!?

NEWS ON THE MARCH!

Tonight's presentation was funded by Yaoyorozu Enterprises.

Go Beyond!


"Have to say, that movie was rather inspired."

"Indeed! Never would've thought that Hughes would have the time to make an adaptation of Gladiator of all things while building those planes of his!"

"Considering what childish schlock the source material is, I doubt he had to put in much effort."

The lobby of Grauman's Chinese Theater populated by the upper crust of society. Those who had managed to stay afloat after the tumultuous stock market crash through legitimate and illegitimate means. Actors, captains of industry, arms dealers, politicians, and more than a few gangsters. Though the press was barred from entering the lobby, here they were all friends and equals. And yet, they were all trying to upstage one another in wealth and taste. Drinking the priciest wine, flashing diamond rings and gold teeth, and donning tailor-made dresses and suits worth more than some would ever see in their lifetime.

One woman, the senator of California's wife, covered her mouth and whispered, "I heard that she convinced him to make it. Something about it being inspiring to those damn Mutants."

Everyone's faces turned dark at the unspoken name.

"I wouldn't be surprised." Howard Stark, the second most famous Howard in America, blew out smoke with a sneer. "Hughes has always liked ladies on the young side."

His wife, Maria Stark, rolled her eyes. "Howard, please…"

"I've heard stories of how he recruits actresses for his pictures, Maria."

"Well, with the way she's dressed and shaped I doubt Hughes needed much convincing!" The senator of California laughed. "Honestly, I'm still surprised the young lady is only eighteen!"

"I hope you all had a great time tonight."

The four then turned to look at the young lady strolling toward them with a bubbling glass of Champagne in hand. She wore a scarlet evening dress that reached down to her ankles, calling attention to her jet-black high heels as dark as her hair. The neckline dipped low, accentuating her breasts without being obscene. A pearl necklace was draped around her neck, sparkling in the light.

But what stood out most was her Japanese features.

It was rare for old money to belong to anyone who wasn't white.

"Well, it was interesting Ms. Yaoyorozu." Howard smirked as he said, "Though I was a bit surprised that you and Hughes didn't make it start with a cartoon of that Superman fellow!"

"Unfortunately, Fleischer was unable to finish production in time." Momo Yaoyorozu, heiress of Yaoyorozu Enterprises, shrugged while taking a sip. "But then again, everyone is finding resources slim during these troubling times."

"But not you." Howard pointed out. "I've heard you managed to get a very lucrative government contract."

"The army needs oil, and my company is more than happy to provide it."

"Well, Stark Enterprises is making good progress at creating a cheap, clean energy source that'll make gas-powered vehicles a thing of the past."

"Yes, I saw that at the World's Fair." Yaoyorozu giggled. "Though, as you said, it's going to need a bit more time in the shop."

Howard's face darkened and before he could say anything Maria stepped forward. "Well, I'm glad that you're doing your part to help the troops, Ms. Yaoyorozu. It's because of you that your people are seen as more than what those dirty cowards in Japan try to make you out as."

Yaoyorozu's smile twitched slightly. It was hardly noticeable, but Howard could see the slip. "Yes. Quite. And hopefully the armies of the world will put a stop to those madmen and butcherers." She finished her glass and set it on the tray of a passing waiter. "Now if you'll excuse me…"

As she left the wife of the senator sneered. "Give them money and they think they're too good for us."

"Honestly, that girl is a mystery to me." Maria sighed. "I was just giving her a compliment!"

Howard watched as Yaoyorozu exited the building. She smiled and waved as the legion of photographers waiting outside filled the air with the sound of clicking shutters and flashing bulbs. Reporters shoved their notepads in her face, hounding her for a juicy quote about the movie. A girl with wavy blond hair and blue eyes stood by the door of a limo. Her large horns and horse-like legs were as prominent as the suit she wore.

"We will probably have to keep an eye on her." Howard took a sip of his scotch as he watched the horse girl open the door to the limo and usher Yaoyorozu inside. "Just in case."

He wasn't a racist. Hell, his best friend was Captain America and the man was a Jap! His mistress Mitsuki Bakugou was also his best scientist, but that was beside the point.

However, there was something about Momo Yaoyorozu that just set off bells in his head.

Like she was hiding something beneath that polite mask of hers…


Franklin "Franky" Kaufman was liking this job less by the second.

This was supposed to be just a one-time gig. The dame, Hilda, had roped him into it. They had been seeing each other on the regular in Sal's Saloon, her porcelain skin and shimmering green dress shone like a beacon of hope to the drunks in that dingy bar. But despite all the wise guys and mooks that tripped over themselves to buy her all the booze she could drink in a lifetime, he was the only one she would give the time of day.

It was coy flirtation at first. He thought that she just liked him because he was the only one who could speak even a smattering of semi-fluent German around. He made sure to give Grandma a silent thanks when he finally got his hands around her. His calloused hands raked through her soft locks while they did things Grandma would surely frown on.

"This damn thing's heavy!" The guy across from him muttered as they lifted the crate and crab-walked to the boat's walkway. "What the hell's…!"

The kid didn't look old enough to have taken up shaving. "Word to the wise, kid?" Franky glanced at one of the black-suited blond guys smoking a cigarette and eyeing them. "Situations like these aren't the best place for questions."

There were about twenty of the ice-eyed bastards milling around, shouting orders to him and the other workers. They all had an accent, but he couldn't quite place it. "Probably the mob."

But for eight bucks an hour it was good work. Times were tough all around and people would kill for a job. Mooks like him who were barred from joining the army because their eyesight wasn't too good took what they could get.

Still, the box was pretty damn heavy. His fingers and arm muscles ached as they went down the walkway.

"Just need to bring it down a few more steps. Then I can meet the dame in the apartment and we can make some plans on what to do with all the lettuce…"

The kid let out a cry and Franky felt the crate twist. He let out a curse and jumped back before the bottom could smash his toes like a burger. The wood cracked and splintered, and everything seemed to go quiet as people turned to see what had happened.

Franky wanted to hurl when he got a good look through the cracked wood.

It was full of guns that looked like they were brought off the set of Buck Rogers, Sleek and black metal with red rings circling the barrel. There were helmets and an armor of some kind.

And a lot of it had a red swastika stamped on some part of it.

"Oh Scheiße!" One of the men cursed before drawing a Walther pistol. "Kill the Amerikaners! Quickly!"

"Nazis?! We were workin for the fuckin' Nazis?!" The kid shouted, his eyes widening in horror. "I thought the Torch fried these krauts!"

"Hard to kill cockroaches, kid." Franky's jaw clenched as he reached into his coat. He always brought uncle Karl's pistol with him, the man's gift from the First World War. "I'm gonna take as many of these bastards as I can before I go."

Franky wasn't someone who was very accepting of other races. He hated the colored folk and always spit in the general direction of the Ching-Chongs and Japs. He didn't trust the slant-eyed bastards no matter what the president or the politicians said.

But what the Nazis did… that was nothing short of monstrous. When he learned about those camps they had over in Europe, the only thought he had when he heard the news of the Human Torch glassing Berlin was "Good riddance".

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

The shout of a dame caused everyone to look up at a lamppost. There, standing atop it with the poise of a French dancer, was a girl dressed in a bizarre hybrid of a soldier's and a showgirl's uniforms..

The sleeves of her black leather bomber jacket had been cut off at the shoulders revealing lithe yet muscled arms. It was unbuttoned, revealing a man's dress shirt that was left open to just below her pale breasts that most men would break their necks to get a good look at. Her thighs could be seen through holes cut into the sides of her form-fitting slacks Her grime-covered combat boots and gloves were secured by brass clasps..

But what stood out the most was the mask.

It covered her entire face save for the back, allowing her ponytail to hang free. Stitches bound the leather components to goggle lenses that obscured her eyes and reflected the world she was looking at.

Franky could just barely see his own terrified face.

"You will not hurt these men you have tricked into helping your insane plot…"

One of the guards, the leader of the group, pointed as his men took out guns and aimed at the lamppost.

"...And I will make sure you Nazi filth will not take another free step in my homeland past tonight!"

The sound of gunfire rang out on the pier, the Spider-Woman jumping off just as the metal and glass of the lamppost were reduced to scrap. Franky watched as she aimed down with her outstretched left arm while her right went towards her hip.

He had seen the masked men and women that popped up in the last ten years. People in tights wielding extraordinary powers who took the law into their own hands or made life harder for ordinary folk like him. Some of the guys in the saloon said their powers were probably just crap from the movies, slights of the hand and whatnot to spice up the headlines. The Mutants? Just a bunch of freaks descended from the carnies or a result from the weird drugs and stuff the other races took.

But he was there, seeing the Spider-Woman press down with her ring and middle finger on her palm, spinning black webbing from her wrist. It enveloped one of the Germans, who screamed in fear as he struggled against his restraints. It distracted the others long enough so that the Spider-Woman took out a revolver and shot a hole clean through the kraut's forehead.

She landed on the ground and emptied the rest of her gun into five other Germans and jumped away just as one of them got their bearings. He emptied his submachine gun into the place she once stood while the dame reached towards her belly.

And to Franky's amazement, another gun sprouted from it like the vegetables from his neighbor's victory garden.

She rolled on the ground, a web spurting out of her left hand, clogging the barrel of the automatic weapon. With a tug, the weapon was ripped from the Nazi's hands before a bullet tore through his throat.

"Hündin!" One of the German's screamed as he discarded his gun and lunged with an SS dagger in his hand while her back was to him. Franky was about to shout a warning to the dame, but she was already turning around with her left arm already outstretched.

A metal pole was already growing out of her elbow. Before the kraut could even get close, it was digging into his side and veering his attack off course. She didn't let up and grabbed onto the pole with her free hand, bringing it down with the big beefy Nazi and making the Aryan prick scream in pain.

"Sergeant Steinoff of the Waffen SS." The Spider-Woman brought down her left foot on the wrist of the hand still holding the dagger. She might as well have been stepping on a twig with how easily it broke. "Your reputation precedes you. Did you really think I wouldn't find you or the rest of your men? That I hadn't been watching you so that I could end your little operation before it even began?"

"You… you untermenschen bitch…" The kraut growled in pain. "Do you think… that this will stop us? The Third Reich will never fall! We shall avenge our fatherland!"

The Spider-Woman shook her head. "I have done my research, Sergeant. I know about the Jews you had lined up for the trenches." She pressed harder on the already broken wrist, causing the defiant Nazi to whimper. "For the crimes you have committed… And to avenge the ghosts of those you have slaughtered…" She let go of the pipe and aimed her pistol. "You will not be dying on the battlefield like you wanted."

Franky couldn't help but look away when the dame fired the shot.

He looked back to see the Spider-Woman stepping off the corpse whose head was now a bloody mess of bone and brain matter. "As for the rest of you… go home and hug your wives and children. Find yourself honest work. I understand that Yaoyorozu Enterprises is in need of reliable men."

With that, the Spider-Woman aimed her hand to the air and jumped up. Black webs came out and he watched in amazement as she swung away into the night.

"This world's gettin' too damn strange." Franky muttered to himself as he tipped his hat. "Cops'll be here soon."

"I'm doing what she said and going home. Lay low for a while." The kid began to run away as the rest of the men muttered their agreement and followed suit. In a matter of minutes the dock was clear, only the bodies and now masterless weapons lying around.

But not Franky.

He walked over to the Buck Rogers guns and knelt down to look at it. He didn't need much imagination to realize that this was part of something bigger. Maybe these guns actually fired rays that would melt people or, God forbid, tanks.

They were part of some sort of conspiracy.

And the one that got him involved…

He heard the cocking of a pistol's hammer behind him.

"So… were you plannin' on having me become a Nazi, Hilda?" He asked as he slowly got up and turned around to see Hilda, his girl, standing there holding one of the Spider-Woman's guns. He didn't need to be a detective to know that it was now loaded. "Thought I wouldn't mind even if I did find out?"

"You're German, Franky." She muttered back with narrowed eyes. "America deserves to burn for what it did."

"Hilda, those men are monsters."

"Why? Because Hitler and the brave men of our homeland wanted to wipe out the subhuman trash!?"

"Subhuman trash, huh?" Hilda cried out as a blur came from the left and an armored fist crashed into her jaw. Skin and muscle tore off as she was launched to the side, the gun going off and the pulled flying harmlessly over Franky's head.

It was a girl, a spic if the skin tone was any indication. She wore a full-body red spandex suit with a yellow spider outlined in green on her chest. Her domino mask was black and her long brown hair tied into a ponytail.

"Well, this 'subhuman' just knocked your block off!" She picked the gun Hilda once held, reared her hand back, and threw it into the water. "Nazi puta!"

"Spider-Girl!" That's enough!" Franky turned to see Spider-Woman running up to the spic. "I told you to wait in the car!"

"Yeah, and I got bored! Sue me!" The Spider-Girl huffed as she trotted over to her mentor. "Besides, I needed a break from fixing up the Spider-Mobile, and you did miss one."

Spider-Woman sighed and put her hands on her hips. "She was meant for the federal agents. They would've questioned her."

"Yeah, but now she'll be extra cooperative."

The two walked away without giving him a second glance. If they acknowledged his presence, they didn't care to show it. And why would they? He wasn't part of their world. Their crusades had no room for him.

Franky looked back at Hilda, still on the ground and cradling her ruined face. It has been so beautiful when they first met, her lips soft as they brushed against his own.

"I loved you, doll." He began to walk away. "But… I'm an American. And I can't lie in bed with a Nazi."

He glanced over to the two superheroes as they climbed into an ordinary green car. It roared to life as it drove off into the night, probably out of his life forever.

"This world really has gotten damn strange…"


Noir


Alright, let's go over this one more time.

My name is Momo Yaoyorozu. I'm eighteen years old, heiress of Yaoyorozu Enterprises, and holder of the vast Yaoyorozu fortune.

I won't be surprised if you think it's strange that a "Jap" like myself can be one of the richest people in America.

I suppose I shall start in the beginning.

My grandfather had moved to the United States of America in 1904, seeking his fortune because he saw no way to raise his position in the growing superpower that was going to be our country. The Japanese had shown their effectiveness in using Mutants as soldiers during the Russo-Japanese War, and an ordinary human such as him would never find a high ranking position in the military or government.

He worked like a dog because he refused to bow in servitude to a white man, knowing how abused and mistreated the Chinese, Indians, and African-Americans were. He studied hard from books he had "borrowed" from local libraries and pretended he couldn't read English so he could take peeks at land charts. He purchased land with his savings that the owners saw as useless, believing they were pulling the wool over the eyes of a stupid Asian.

Little did they know that those lands had huge pools of oil underneath the surface, and before he revealed this fact to the world my grandfather covered all his legal bases so the government could not take it from him.

In a few short years, my grandfather created Yaoyorozu Enterprises and became the biggest oil baron in America.

My parents and I lived in wealth and privilege because of his efforts, but made equal effort in helping those less fortunate than us. We gave jobs to the underprivileged and helped to make life comfortable during the Great Depression. My father and mother, however, kept in touch with relatives in Japan and would discuss in worried whispers about the rising madness and nationalism that was infecting it.

They didn't hide it, either. They were branded traitors for condemning Japan's expansionism and crimes against humanity by Japanese immigrants who didn't consider themselves wholly American and by white Americans jealous of their wealth.

It was a shock, but not a surprise, when my parents were assassinated for their words.

The assassin, an Imperial Japanese sympathizer, was caught. But the damage was done. My parents were dead and I was left with both the family fortune and a controlling interest in my family company's stocks.

I tried to follow my family's footsteps of helping the less fortunate, including hiring a Mutant as my personal maid and live-in servant named Pony Tsunotori.

I felt a kinship with her because I also had a Mutant power, one kept in secret that my parents called 'Create'. I could make practically everything out of my own fat cells, and because it wasn't visible I could blend into normal society without adding another reason for the white-controlled America to hate me.

But everything changed after one fateful day.

I had decided to sneak away from both Pony and my bodyguards for a night in Manhattan alone as an ordinary person. There, while trawling the streets and visiting both Asian shops and 'colored joints', I saw a man being beaten in an alleyway. An African-American who was being brutalized by white teenagers. I could not sit by and do nothing, and charged before I even knew my legs were moving. I fought off the cruel men with my powers and the skills I'd honed for self-defense.

I tried to tend to the man, but it was too late for me to do anything. He was dying, and before he passed from this world he told me who as well as what he was.

His name was Ezekiel, the latest in a line of avatars for the story god Anansi. For years, he had operated in the shadows as The Spider to capture evil in his web. But the years had caught up to him, and he needed a pure and righteous heart to become the new avatar.

And because of my actions I had been chosen.

So on top of my natural Mutant powers, I had been gifted with an extraordinary sixth sense, amazing strength and agility, the ability to stick to walls, and the ability to produce black webbing from my wrists.

I was inspired by the amazing beings donning colorful costumes such as the Human Torch, Marvel Boy, and the Whizzer to don a mask myself.

But I would become something more and deal with the ugly corruption of the world from the shadows.

Joined by Anya Corazon, an orphan from Brooklyn who had her own spider-powers thanks to a gem gifted by the Great Goddess of Teotihuacan, and Pony, I wage a battle against the weeds of injustice.

...And I will keep fighting against ilk like the Nazis and Imperial Japan to defend the innocent no matter what compromises I will need to make.

For I am the one and only… Spider-Woman!


"Welcome back, madam."

Momo suppressed a small yelp of surprise and turned around to see Pony standing there in her maid uniform with her hands folded in front of her.

"D-Don't surprise me like that!" She coughed into her hand. "You know that my Spider-Sense cannot detect you."

"I promise to stomp my feet when I approach in the future." The horse-like girl smirked for a second before returning to her calm and serene mask of professionalism. "Am I to guess that today was another productive night out in the town?"

She took off her mask and sighed as the cool air met her slightly sweaty face. "San Diego's different from New York. It took Anya and I some time to acquaint ourselves with the city's layout, but we managed to stop the planned arms trade. It'll delay their planned attack, which will make the other agents sloppy but the FBI can…"

The Hispanic girl nudged her in the ribs. "Come on, chica! Don't bore her with the details! What matters is that we kicked butt!" Anya pumped her fist into the air. "Beating the shit outta Nazis is somethin' we don't need those government bastards for!"

Momo sighed. Anya Corazon was a determined and driven girl. She had seen that while on patrol in Brooklyn where she watched the girl defend a small shop in her homemade costume with her mystically-granted powers.

But she seemed to love conflict a bit too much. Crave it in fact. She had a zest for life that kept her from sitting still, eagerly awaiting the next time she could don her mask and punch bad guys.

"I wonder if it's my fault…"

When she had learned that Anya was an orphan, she had her move into Yaoyorozu Manor. It wasn't like she could adopt her or anything. Officially, Anya was the live-in groundskeeper and mechanic. But Momo saw someone who was a kindred spirit. Someone she could help guide and be friends with.

She even had them swear on the Bible to uphold a just war against crime.

Anya laughed for nearly half an hour from that earnest gesture.

"That isn't our mission." Momo handed Pony her mask, who folded it neatly as if it were a napkin. "Agent Carter made that clear."

"Yeah, and she's a bitch." Anya sighed. "I don't get what Cap sees in her. Especially when he could have a catch like you."

She blushed. "I-I don't see him that way!"

Her young partner raised an eyebrow. "Right, because you have been keeping your eye on Todoroki." She huffed as she went to the bathroom. "I'm gonna get changed and head to the safe house. The sooner we get the Spider-Mobile fixed, the sooner we're out of that rust bucket."

When she closed the door Pony turned to Momo and said, "Should I get dinner out? I made a wonderful steak and…"

"Not tonight, Pony." Momo walked to her room down the hall. "There is too much to do."

When she opened the door she saw on the office table, just in front of the headset and microphone, was a silver tray that had finger sandwiches placed neatly in a circle on top. She turned to Pony who was smiling.

"Well, then it was a good thing I was lying. I find that this is a better meal for these nights you stay up late, madam. I hate to waste so much good food that you'll never eat."

Momo inspected the sandwiches and smiled. Peanut butter and raspberry jam, her favorite. "Thank you, Pony."

The Mutant maid curtsied and closed the door. "I'll also be sure to clean after Lady Corazon. Cleanliness is, unfortunately, a talent she lacks."

"I HEARD THAT!"

She giggled a bit and sat in the chair. After nibbling on a sandwich and taking a swig of the glass of egg cream, she put on the headphones and activated the microphone. "Spider One to Web, Spider One to Web. Report, over."

"Fly One reporting, Fisk is making moves in Harlem to take over the Goblin's territory…"

"Fly Two reporting, Bont has just fingered some Nazis to the FBI in exchange for them lookin' the other way to his operations…"

"Fly Three reporting, Electro drones are cleaning up in Italy. Apparently Philo Zog personally crushed Musolini's head…"

"Fly Four reporting, Robbie Robertson hasn't been seen for over two weeks. Police aren't working too hard to find him and the PIs hired by the family aren't having much luck…"

Over the years, Momo had been able to acquire a vast and loyal spy network called the Web. She had men and women who ranged from civilians to soldiers in the Axis powers. Thankfully, very few of them were motivated by fear or blackmail. But all of it resulted in a network that made the FBI blush with envy.

Which was probably the reason why they had agreed to her demands as readily as they had.

She rubbed her chin and hummed. She had been beginning to investigate Robbie Robertson's disappearance before being forced to fly to California. He worked at the Daily Bugle and was a close personal friend to the editor J Jonah Jameson and top reporter Ben Urich despite being black. He had disappeared without a trace and with hardly any clues towards his whereabouts. Momo had been suspecting it was connected to similar disappearances of New York's black residents…

"Spider One, this is Eagle One." A crisp, professional female voice met her ears. "You are to meet me at the mirror monument for your next assignment at thirteen hundred hours. Acknowledge, over."

"So soon…" She felt a headache coming on as she hit the button. "Eagle One, this is Spider One. I acknowledge, over and out." She turned off the microphone and collapsed in her chair.

She could already tell that tomorrow was going to be a long day.


Momo couldn't help but admire the memorial for its simplicity.

A simple artificial pond that reflected both the sky and onlookers on the edges. In the center was a marble bowl that had a single flickering flame that wouldn't blow out no matter how hard wind the wind blew. She could see people looking at it with forlorn expressions, some openly weeping in the arms of their loved ones or hugging their children.

"It's rather beautiful. Your government certainly knows how to spend its money."

"Yaoyorozu Enterprises footed most of the bill." Momo glanced to her right to see a woman with long blond hair that reached to the middle of her back. Her eyes were aqua green peering over a pair of dark blue-rimmed glasses. She wore a female uniform of a military secretary, neatly pressed without a wrinkle on it. "It was the least we could do. The people needed a place to mourn their loved ones.

Peggy Carter nodded grimly. "I suppose having your territories occupied by the Japanese will do that to you."

Momo remembered December 20th, 1940 well. It was a day that lived in infamy, when Japan invaded and occupied the territories of Hawaii and Alaska. In the span of a few weeks, Japan had given the United States a taste of what they had subjected China and the rest of their conquests to. The dead and defiled numbered in the hundreds each, and the scars remained in the psyche of the country since.

The United States had been officially neutral in the war up to that point, only trading with the Allies as it had done before the fighting started. Captain America and other costumed adventurers were mostly staying in the home front to weed out Axis sleeper cells.

That attack made things personal for the country.

"I expect my country will also begin making some when we're done fishing bodies out of the rubble." Peggy reached into her purse. "I have your new mission. It should be a simple, albeit ghastly one…"

"How's Izuku?"

Peggy paused and pursed her lips. Momo knew that the woman didn't like her all that much, since she seemed to like the boy a great deal as well.

"But she knows I care for him. I deserve to know what he's doing."

"...He's fine. Todoroki and the Rumor are always by his side, keeping him grounded and comfortable on the battlefield. Rumor has been making sure he doesn't let Namor's death get to him."

"Why?"

Peggy gave her a look that made Momo feel stupid. "He blames himself, of course. Namor was a very stubborn bastard, but he always listened to Izuku. At least until he went off to Japan half-cocked." She sighed and took out a piece of paper. "Here. This is a letter from him. I promised I would give it to you the next time I met you."

"A letter?" She had to fight the urge to just snatch it from Peggy's hands. The letters were the only way for them to communicate. While her Web was coded, there was still the possibility of someone listening in and the last thing the Axis needed to know was Spider-Woman and Captain America's hidden feelings.

She took it and began to scan the careful cursive. The paper was splattered with dirt and even the yellowish stains of dry blood, but it was all perfectly legible.


Dear Momo,

It's been a while, hasn't it? I'm sure you've kept up with my adventures, considering how I heard that your company bought up Timely and have been producing the comics Simon and Kirby have been making. Sure, they've got to make me into "Steve Rogers" but it's pretty great stuff. I've actually met them and they're really swell guys. Kirby smokes like a chimney though.

As for how I'm doing?

It's a bit hard to say.

The days are blurring into weeks. We keep marching from one city to another, liberating town after town. Every one of the citizens look like they're in a daze, as if they cannot believe their eyes. I don't think many of them imagined that Hitler would be dead and Berlin would be gone. I can barely believe it either.

I still have nightmares. Of the people I've killed to try and make the world a safer place. Of the thousands of men and women I couldn't save. Of the look Jim gave me before he destroyed Berlin and the last time I saw Namor.

I joined this war because I thought that it was the right thing to do. To defend our country and the world from the bullies that were the Axis powers, even if a lot of people in the United States hate people like us. But then I met you, Marnie, and Toshinori and found out that I wasn't alone. With you guys and Shouto by my side, I figured that we could beat back the evil. And I still think we can win.

But it's hard.

It's been weeks since I last saw Lieutenant Toshinori. He's a huge help to the Howling Commandos, and I can't help but feel silly next to them. He has that amazing power of his, but he doesn't dress up in a costume. Sergeant Fury, who you may remember me saying doesn't like me all that much, says that us superheroes aren't heroes at all. According to him, all we do is make the war look good.

I think that all of us got a bit self-conscious as the war went on. That costume you see in the comics? I traded that for a custom field uniform years ago.

And it's hard to feel like we make the war look good when we stumble into horror after horror.

Shouto's not sleeping well. Ever since we went into the first camp and the Red Army gave us a 'tour'. He said it was too big to fit in his head. That it was something out of Hell, and only demons could do something like this.

He hasn't used his flame powers since. Sometimes I can hear him sobbing when we stop to sleep.

I cried too at first. But lately the tears have stopped flowing. I must be getting used to all this. I don't think I should.

And while I can see an end in sight, there's miles to go before we get there. We meet resistance in every town, the Nazis and even civilians are fighting to the last man. Partly because of the madness Hitler and the Red Skull put in their heads, partly out of revenge for Berlin.

But I'll keep fighting, because I know you are too. I know that you're brave and determined to do the right thing, and because of you and my friends I'll be able to see this war to the end.

And once it is done, I'll see you again and we can go out for that dance.

Your friend,

Izuku Midoriya

Captain America


She wanted to cry but couldn't.

This wasn't like when she killed a man during her first night out as a masked avenger, capturing Ezekiel's murderers so that they would be brought to justice. She remembered one of them stumbling off the roof, waving his hands about saying that this was impossible. That she was some sort of agent from Hell who had come to punish him. She saw his broken body on the pavement, and in her shock mumbled something ominous about how justice's blind eyes judge all regardless of color and how when society fails the Spider-Woman would act as her sword.

She had rushed back to the manor and cried for hours with only Pony to comfort her.

Following that, hardly anything shocked her anymore. Tears became harder to shed and the act of killing criminals became an almost out of body experience.

It made situations like this difficult for Momo to bear.

This letter from Izuku Midoriya, the boy who wanted to serve a country that hated and feared him for his race so badly that he took an experimental serum that could have killed him, showed the real war. The war wasn't a simple battle of good versus evil where the only thing that mattered was that the Allies were beating the Nazis. The soldiers who trudge through mud, bullets, and the bodies of brothers, friends, and fathers strewn about the field. The men whose scarred hearts and minds were sustained only by the distant hope that their sacrifice would be worth it. This was the side of the war that her company's newsreels and Timely Comics' monthly picture books could not show.

This was the burden carried by the soldiers sent to fight and die for the sake of freeing the world from tyranny.

And she couldn't even cry over what the sweet boy was experiencing there.

"Thank you." She muttered while placing the note in her purse. "I'll write to him as soon as I can."

Peggy nodded. "I'm sure he would like that. Lord knows that Izuku needs friendly letters from home. His mum used to send him letters and food by post, but some of them get lost on the trip over. I've been stopping by their apartment lately so I can ensure their delivery." Her face darkened. "Their grocery store was destroyed just a few days ago. Some bastards wrote 'Japs not welcome anymore' on the walls."

Momo grit her teeth. "If you had let me stay in New York, I would've handled it."

"I already have. They won't be walking right for months and will have trouble taking a piss for the rest of their lives." The blonde took out a Manila folder and handed it to Momo. "The reason why we need you here is simple: your government wants you to recover one of two bombs that will end the war."

She opened the folder and frowned at the picture of a thin man in a wheelchair with neatly combed brown hair. He had a pleasant smile on his face as he stared at the camera. On the sheet underneath the photo, the name 'Otto Octavius' was typed in bold black ink with the single word 'TERMINATE' written in red.

"Otto Octavius had been working on the Manhattan Project for years." Peggy took out a single cigarette from her purse and put it between her lips. "It had been known that the man was sympathetic to the Nazis, but his knowledge in radiation was simply too good to let slip." She lit it and took in a breath. As she let it out, the British woman shook her head. "They thought that they had the man under close enough watch, but obviously it wasn't close enough. Just last week code named 'Little Boy' had mysteriously disappeared, Octavius was nowhere to be seen, and two guards had their throats slit."

Momo jaw dropped as she read on. Otto Octavius had been born with deformed legs, making him paraplegic since birth. He had been raised in South Africa amongst its black citizens, but everything on his file indicated he held a deep hatred for coloreds despite it being apparent he'd never been mistreated by them.

"How can someone like this hate colored people this much? And to want to join the Nazis… doesn't he know they hate the crippled and deformed?"

But the thing that made her blood run cold was the data about the bomb he had stolen.

Specifically the fact that it was theorized to have the force of fifteen kilotons of TNT with a kill count of over two hundred thousand people.

"Why… why was the government…?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures." Peggy replied simply, and when Momo looked into her eyes they seemed to be glazed over. The deep pool in them conveyed only resigned sorrow. "Japan is being run by power-hungry madmen. They will not stop until something drastic happens in their own country. The Emperor and military need to be shown that there will be no profit, glory, or honor in continuing a fight when their enemy is willing to cause this much destruction."

"B-But Jim Hammond destroyed Berlin completely! And there are still loyalists fighting in Hitler's name!" She stammered while waving the file. "Destroying a city will not end the fight!"

"The Human Torch was one entity acting independently." Peggy let out a shaky breath of smoke. "This is one of two bombs that can be mass produced."

She staggered a bit as the weight of all this came crashing down. Were the Allies truly considering this? She wanted the war to end. She wanted the senseless slaughter to stop and for Izuku and the soldiers to come home. But this scale of mass murder even to end the war…

"Octavius' hideout is a manor that his Nazi handlers had bought on the coast before your country officially entered the war. Your mission is to go in, kill everyone you find there, retrieve the bomb, and then burn the bloody place to the ground."

Momo shook her head. "No."

The blond raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"I won't do it. There may be civilians staying in that household. Staff or family members of the agents. I cannot… I won't…!"

Peggy was silent for a second, taking one last drag of her cigarette before dropping it to the ground and crushing it beneath her foot. "I don't like this business either, but this dirty work is what you signed up for. Need I remind you why you sold your soul to Roosevelt and Hoover?"

Her jaw clenched and she ground her teeth. No, Peggy didn't need to remind her.

Momo never told anyone, not even Pony, Anya, or Izuku in their letters. The Web had gotten news that the United States government had been fast-tracking policies that would herd Japanese-Americans into internment camps after Japan's invasion of Hawaii and Alaska.

Momo had broken into the White House, went to the President, unmasked, and offered him a deal.

She would become his and the FBI's off-the-books Super-Agent with all her spy organization and powers at the government's disposal for the war. And, in exchange, they would throw out all their plans regarding the internment of Japanese-Americans.

"And I've hated it ever since."

Momo's free hand clenched into a fist. She wanted to hit Peggy, but that wouldn't solve anything. She knew the woman didn't delight in delivering her missions or keeping all this a secret from Izuku. She was merely a messenger and a soldier. The people she hated, the ones who really benefited from all this dirty work, were people that she could never strike.

And even if she did, it would be for nothing.

"This bomb… it could really end the war."

But that was only if it remained in the hands of the Allies.

If Octavius was successful and delivered such a weapon of mass destruction to the Axis, then the chaos and death would be incalculable.

So, taking a deep breath, Momo looked into the soldier's eyes and said three words that sealed her fate.

"I'll do it."


It was almost like Nazi agents weren't even hiding the kind of people lived in this manor.

It stood atop a cliff, modeled after the gothic houses that haunted literature and cinema for decades. Spires and tinted windows that hinted at dark and mysterious events happening inside yet hiding it from any prying eyes. She could hear the owls and bats that roosted atop the roof and could see their beady eyes honing in on her.

"All you'd need to complete this scene is a bolt of lighting."

Normally, Momo would've approached the manor on her Spider-Plane or the Spider-Mobile. But the former would have alerted the public of her assault and the latter remained in the safe house, still being worked on by Anya.

And Anya didn't know that she was here.

Momo didn't tell Anya about these kinds of missions. Sure, her young friend knew that there was an arrangement with the government but nothing more than that. She didn't know about the quiet assassinations and the burning of evidence. She didn't know about the kidnappings so that the FBI could extract information both from Axis spies and the politically inconvenient.

Those missions were things that she was ashamed about, and knew both Anya and Izuku would hate her for if they found out.

"But it's for the greater good…"

Momo silently approached the manor with her gun drawn, the waves crashing against the cliff. It helped to mask her footfalls when she went closer to the window. Leaning to the right of the frame, she peeked through the glass.

There was nothing.

She frowned beneath her mask. Was nobody home? "Impossible. Carter's file said that they would be leaving tonight. The Nazis are nothing if not methodical in their schemes and detailed in their logs." Surely, they couldn't have known that she was coming?

Reaching into her belt, she took out a thin scalpel with a red button on the side. The blade began to vibrate as she put it against the glass, smoothly cutting through the material as if it were like butter.

"Thank you, Research and Development."

Momo's company had been looking into home products that would make work easier for the average American. This tool, the vibro-blade, would make saws and machetes a thing of the past. But it was rejected due to the materials to create the battery being too costly.

They did make a few working prototypes, which she whisked away when nobody was looking.

Once she cut a square, she put the tips of her fingers on the glass and pulled softly. Setting the square to the side, she reached her arm in and unlocked the window.

She pushed it up and entered the manor. "Time to look around." She thought to herself, keeping her gun drawn as she walked down the hallways.

After an hour of searching, she found no sign of Germans or Octavius. It was clear that there had been people living inside, but they had left recently. For her part, Momo was relieved. She hadn't been a fan of the plan to just kill everyone inside the manor.

"But that still leaves the bomb…"

A screech disrupted her, and she turned to see a single bat flapping its wings uselessly behind the glass of a grandfather clock.

"How could it have gotten there?" Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, she approached the clock and opened the glass face. Crying in freedom, the bat flew away into the ceiling and out of Momo's sight.

The clock was rather big. And how could a bat have managed to fly its way inside the workings? The back was so close to the wall…

Realization dawned on her, and she put her left hand to the clock's side and pulled.

Sure enough, the clock slid to the left and revealed a doorway with stone steps leading down.

The smell hit her nostrils first. A smell of rot and decay that wormed its way through her mask and up her nose. She had to fight back the urge to gag as she slowly went down the stairs.

She had encountered enough death to know its stench.

But it did not prepare her for what laid below.

It was a lab of some sort that stood in the middle of a room whose walls were lined with prison cells. Tubes and beakers were strewn across the table with notes scribbled in shorthand. But in front of the lab was a black man, completely naked and with the top of his head haphazardly bolted together across the brow.

She knew his face.

"Oh, Robbie…" She muttered sadly and looked in the cells. All of them were filled with the dead and all of them were black. This was horrible! Octavius had been performing some sort of sick human experimentation on the objects of his hatred! "So he was the one kidnapping people in New York! He likely didn't want to stop his sick experiments when the Nazis called him in, so they must've smuggled them inside!"

Well, no matter. She had taken the gas and oil canisters that were in the manor's garage. She would take it down here and bath this accursed place in cleansing fire. Then, she would find Octavius and…!

Something moved and her Spider-Sense began to throb. "Danger! The Germans!"

She wheeled around, bringing her gun up only to have her wrist caught in the hand…

… of the deceased Robbie Robertson.

"Rob-!" She didn't have time to let out a gasp as the man's other hand went around her neck. She croaked as the vice grip began to cut out her oxygen. "W-What is this?!"

The man's mouth hung open, the rank decay wafting out of the orifice while grey eyes stared at her. The man was dead, that much was certain. And yet he moved!

"How surprising to see you, Fräulein!" She knew that voice! She had encountered it before with Izuku during their first team-up!

"Z-Zola!"

"Indeed! It is an honor to meet the great Spider-Woman once again!" The mad German doctor's voice laughed from within Robbie's throat. "I had asked the good doctor to leave this little parting gift to whoever tracked his location! I had expected the captain, but you shall…!"

Momo had enough. She took her free hand and grabbed the dead man's wrist. Applying her strength, she crushed it and he let go of her throat.

"That is so rude! I had not finished talking!"

A hard, meaty hand slapped against Momo's face while the other let go of her wrist. The strength of the dead man threw her across the room, and she gasped while clutching her throat.

"The man is dead! How can he hit so hard!"

"I had directed Doctor Octavius to make some adjustments to the black man's body!" She looked up to see Robbie's dead body approaching with sampling steps. His crushed wrist was righting itself on its own and with a sickening snap returned to its former shape as if nothing happened. "After all, it is not a good present if it breaks so easily!"

Momo fired at Robbie's chest, and while he stumbled a bit the holes did not deter his progress.

Zola tutted from the open mouth. "I thought you were smarter than this, Fräulein! You cannot shoot a corpse dead with bullets!"

"No, I cannot." She tossed her gun away and launched webs at the dead man's feet. The black webbing looked like tar as it stuck Robbie's feet to the ground. The man's legs jerked, but made no progress. "But I can slow him do-!"

Then, to her horror, the skin from the feet were torn off as the corpse progressed.

"I'll have to cut him up!" She felt sick with the thought, but what other choice did she have? The thing wasn't going to stop unless she made it happen!

Focusing, she had the handle of a Japanese katana come out of her left arm. Gripping it, she rushed forward while drawing the blade out. With a scream, she swung for the corpse's neck.

It buried itself halfway through before something stopped it.

"Checkmate!" Zola cried out, and before Momo could register what that meant pain entered her body. She screamed as every nerve went wild. She was being electrocuted! The damn bastards booby trapped Robbie's body!

As soon as the realization hit her she felt the dead man's arms wrap around her like a vice. She tried to push him away, but those lifeless arms continued to crush her like a hydraulic press. Robbie's body was too strong!

"This is the end of another costumed fool!"

Momo grit her teeth and could feel blood coming up her throat as a rib cracked. No, this couldn't be the end! She can't die here! "Pony, Anya, Izuku, Peggy… America itself, no, the WORLD is counting on me! This can't… this can't be the end of my story!"

"It won't be, child."

She blinked and found herself staring into a void filled with silver webs. It all led to a single throne, where sat a man with the head of a spider wearing a fine purple suit. His dark, spindly fingers intertwined on his lap while his two legs were crossed. All eight of his eyes stared at her, and while he had no mouth, she could tell they were filled with amusement.

"This tale is too good for it to end now. I hate short stories, and if I allowed yours to end now it would be the shortest of all my champions!"

"A-Anansi?"

"Rest, child. I shall handle things from here…"

Before she could reply, flashes appeared before her.

Black spiders were erupting from her skin, enveloping the corpse in a deluge of arachnids that sank their fangs into its skin. Robbie's body finally let go, stumbling as thousands of doses of venom took their toll before their tiny mouths began to devour the flesh.

Germans rushed in from of the entrance to the lab, only to scream in horror as the spiders advanced on them.

"Feed well, my children! Show these madmen the fate of those who harm the Spider!"

Those words, Anansi's words from her mouth, were all Momo heard before she blacked out.

When she awoke, she was lying on the cold, wet grass outside the manor. "What… what happened?" She was just inside and…!

The heat on her back and the crackling of flame made her turn around to see that the manor was already set ablaze. The glass windows were blowing out as flames danced inside and the roof began to collapse.

"Did I… did Anansi…?"

Even now, she didn't fully understand the god. He was supposed to be an avatar of justice, at least according to Ezekiel, but during their few meetings he seemed only amused by humanity's plight. He treated everything like some sort of story that only he could read, and her only purpose was to make sure it was a good one.

"But maybe that's just how gods are. We cannot understand their motives…"

An unfamiliar siren interrupted her thoughts, and Momo rushed to the cliff to see the top of a U-Boat sink beneath the waves.

"Damn…" She hissed while her hands clenched into fists.

Well, if Octavius thought he was going to get away he was sorely mistaken.

She would trace his route through the Web and make arrangements to follow him.

He would not escape, she would make sure of that.

Otto Octavius was now caught in the web of the Spider-Woman.

And Momo was going to make sure that he would pay for all the evil he had done!


Johann Shmidt, known and feared by many as the Red Skull, smoked his cigarette as General Nana Shimura stood in front of his desk with her hands to her sides. She stood ramrod straight, ready for any order he gave.

He had met many soldiers. They knew how to make their faces stone masks in the presence of greatness. Some of the weaker ones quivered in fear or awe in his presence, and he usually had them sent to the front lines. An army had no use for boys wearing a uniform. True soldiers knew how to keep their emotions hidden, betraying nothing as they awaited their next command.

He knew that Shimura was more than capable of doing so.

But instead she glared at him, her eyes making her thoughts clear as day.

She thought he was scum. That if the circumstances were different, she would turn him into a stain and be rid of a blight on her world.

It's why he smirked at her while holding his cigarette. He knew she wouldn't do a thing.

"I have gotten word that my men have secured Octavius and the wonder weapon and are on their way to restock at the Australian continent. Your soldiers will meet him there and protect both him and his payload for the rest of the trip." He spoke his mother tongue and watched as the Mutant's brow furrowed. He could speak her language as fluently as anyone in her homeland, but he enjoyed small opportunities like this to make her squirm. "And, of course, you will meet them aboard the Nagato before bringing him to see your emperor."

"Going to Australia is risky. There is a high probability that my soldiers will be killed by the Americans there."

Her German was a bit rough, but passable. He had to give the savage a bit of credit there.

"Yes, but that is the only way that will ensure the safety and security of Germany's sons. There are so few of them now, and we need all the bodies we have for what is to come." He took a puff of his cigarette and blew it out in her direction.

Shimura's jaw clenched. "If the emperor hadn't ordered me personally to escort you…!"

"And yet he had. He knows full well the value of this super weapon. As do you."

She nodded stiffly. "Yes. It can end the war for the glory of the empire. End the bloodshed..."

"How naive…" He wanted to burst out laughing. This foolish woman thought herself as the hero of her nation. No, perhaps its savior. Despite her high rank, Johann knew full well that she didn't have the stomach for the crimes her country had committed against the savages in China and Indochina. However, she promoted said brutal practices in the belief that if they commit horrible acts then the day the West allows Japan to rise undisturbed would come sooner.

It was truly laughable. Such naïveté would lead to nothing but disappointment and disillusionment.

"Oh how I look forward to the day when your hope for a reward past the river of blood crumbles in your hands…" That mental image brought him almost as much happiness as that dream of twisting the good Captain's head off with his bare hands.

"Don't tell me you are scared, my savage general." Johann glanced to his right to see Baron Heinrich Zemo smirking underneath his purple mask. "Has that Indochina general laid you low so much that you shrink back at the merest hint of battle?"

"Be silent!" Shimura's hands clenched into fists as she stared at Zemo. "You know nothing!"

"I know that General LeTrong Giap was merely an officer a year ago. And yet he has been taking your country's territory one block at a time, lining the roads with your soldiers' heads on spikes."

"Giap is a savage that just got lucky! I and the Empire's sons shall bring him down when…!"

"Enough!" Johann sighed. It was like he was in a room full of children. "General, please leave. I will chastise the baron for his terrible manners. We are but guests in your country, and would not presume to insult our hosts."

Shimura huffed, bowed, and stomped out of the room like a child. It was truly amazing how childish the woman was despite her front as a soldier.

She wasn't made for this world.

"Zemo, need I remind you to play nice with the subhumans?"

Zemo shrugged. "I don't see why. Their usefulness is coming to an end."

"Regardless, they still have their use until Octavius is delivered to us with the bomb." He took another puff of his cigarette and blew it out. "When I talked with Herr Gobbels about the wonder weapon, we came to an agreement. Germany will never win the war."

With a scoff, the baron shook his head. "That much is clear, Skull."

He smirked at that. While he couldn't see Zemo's eyes and his outfit made his body language muted, he could tell the man's blood ran cold.

"Germany will not win the war." He repeated slowly. "So Goebbels and I decided that if we cannot win… then we shall make sure everyone loses."

That terrible weapon Captain America's people had made would soon be his, and he would bathe the world in flames.

And as the fire consumed his hated enemy who would reach out as his skin melted off his bones, the Red Skull would do one thing.

He would laugh.


To Be Continued…?


Notes: At last, the long-awaited side-story has been completed and reviewed by reppuzan!

This one was fun to write, because it was a bit of my love-letter to Pulp stories and Golden Age comic superheroes. While the parallels to Batman are obvious with Spider-Momo, I tried to make sure she had a bit more of the Shadow in her DNA. I also wanted to show a bit of how the society of WW2 would change with superheroes and supervillains taking more of a role on the battlefield. Superhero comics never really touch on it because the battlefield would transform into something unrecognizable, like in this timeline Philo Zog allowed for his Electro robot to be mass-produced, interesting drone warfare years earlier. Plus there are scenes just too heartbreaking to look at, like the psychological toll things such as the Holocaust would have on superheroes.

Some recent comics show how the horrors of WW2 affected characters, like Namor's war experiences including a visit to the camps really fucked him up, but I wanted to show more of it while treating everything with the utmost respect.

I also apologize to anyone who feels offended by some of the liberal time-appropriate slurs used here, but this was the 1940's and it wasn't exactly a politically correct time even for the most liberal non-bigoted people. Though I did draw the line of using the n-word even if it was the most common way to refer to African-Americans back then.

Anyways, hope you liked it all.

Be sure to leave your thoughts in the form of reviews and visit the TV Tropes page!