Avenging
Act 5
Epilogue 2
Days of Futures Yet to Come
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Last chapter: Biko was killed by Sunset Bain. Ariyoshi was finally brought low by a number of individuals, thus taking care of the last two major pains in the Avengers posteriors. However there are many, many games afoot.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Welcome, Mr. Soyozoh. Have a seat."
Irie Soyozoh, the head of Kerberos, took the seat offered by the Prime Minister of Japan. It wasn't the first time he had met the man, or the first time he had met a Prime Minister in this very room, the official office of the official Prime Minister of Japan. He had served under three, counting this one, during his tenure with Hound and the covert war with the Phantom Cats. It had been an important thing, and Prime Ministers liked being kept up to date on how a race determined to subjugate or exterminate humanity was being dealt with by the organization you were investing tons of money secretly into. The current and previous holders of the office really were very similar in most ways. Not like Ariyoshi had been. He hadn't been surprised upon hearing she'd had a few people assassinated. She seemed the type. But if the people had eventually elected her prime minister, as she had seemed on track to become, maybe they wanted a politician cut from that mold. Who was he to judge?
But these last three Prime Ministers, they would never have gotten their hands dirty directly that way. Perhaps it was for the best for society as a whole that their leaders didn't routinely assassinate dissidents. Historically it hadn't led to the best of outcomes. Especially because the people that didn't mind that sort of thing always thought they would never be judged a dissident. Many of them had discovered that fatal misestimation when it was too late to do anything about it. Like flee to another country.
With Ariyoshi caught in many sordid plans, she was gone for good. Kerberos' fate, well Irie was fairly certain of what it was going to be. It was why he had been summoned to the Prime Minister's office for this meeting which wasn't public knowledge. Actually that would make it like most of the meetings he'd had throughout his government career.
The Prime Minister continued, "I'll cut to the chase. I know you don't care for bothersome pleasantries. No doubt you're concerned about what's going to happen to Kerberos since this nasty business with Ariyoshi. I mean really. Assassinations? That went out in the feudal era. And a reporter as well as her own campaign manager? Filthy business. Never cared much for her. Too power hungry. Can't trust people like that, as she's shown. They'll do anything to acquire more. First it's people in the way. Then it's Cultural Revolutions, Gulags, and Guillotines. Things like that need to stay in the past."
Irie noted of late, everyone had a speech they went out of their way to deliver, assuring everyone they hadn't liked Ariyoshi and was glad she's gone. If one were to believe every one of them, she had been the most friendless, disliked human being on the face of the planet. He wagered the Prime Minister had given it so often he knew it by rote.
Assurance delivered, he continued. "Now of course we'll be dismantling Kerberos. Anything she did, we're undoing. Don't need any of her programs left lying around reminding people of her. We want this forgotten as soon as possible. She'll be part of the past soon enough.
"Now as to your fate, you don't have to worry. We know the great job you did with Hound. Saving all of us at the cost of your own job? How many in political circles are that self-sacrificing?" He chuckled. "And lucky for you, Ariyoshi made certain she was the public face of her project. She's the only one associated with it, so no bad press for you or anybody else. You'll have to disappear into the woodwork, just to be on the safe side, but that might be to your benefit. There's been an idea in the works for a while. Probably would have gone with it if Ariyoshi hadn't been pushing so hard for Kerberos. And now that she's gone, we're moving forward with it.
"The security of this nation is paramount, and it faces threats both from without and within. One of Ariyoshi's many faults was this fixation on super humans being responsible for far issues more than they actually are. Of course they can be, Kerberos had to deal with enough of those types, but ordinary humans cause just as many problems now as they did before this increase of super powered beings. What this plan calls for is looking out for everyone and everything. We'll be setting up a number of sections under the umbrella of the Ministry of Internal Affairs. Each section will specialize in certain types of cases or scenarios, and ideally have little to do with one another. We want things compartmentalized. Now we're going to be doing something a little different in that the larger sections with more funding and personnel will have the least amount of authority, while those with the fewest will have the most. The idea is it will be difficult for a small branch to abuse power on a large scale if they can't be in too many places at once, and even if they try, it would be easy to stop once it became obvious that was what it was doing. As opposed to Ariyoshi who wanted her own private army to do whatever she really wanted: robots don't question orders, after all." He waited for Irie's response.
"Interesting." Was all he got.
Apparently that was what the Prime Minister wanted to hear. "That's why we want you in charge of one of the more powerful ones. You've proven no matter how much power you're given, you never go beyond what you're told. Frankly you're one of the few people everyone trusts. Now your team will be a dozen or so field agents, with far more support personnel, to fulfill your duties. Only field agents will have actual authority, and there will be a distinct chain of command in your section. You have your choice of personnel save one."
"And that would be?"
"Your second-in-command. He'll be a young fellow who has shown a lot of promise in a short amount of time: Daisuke Aramaki. He'll be your eventual successor if he's up for the job. Now you might be wondering why we're already planning to have a successor to you even though we just assigned you the job."
"The thought crossed my mind," Irie agreed.
"If something else big were to come up, like another Phantom Cat level situation, you've proven to be the go-to guy for those situations. We want your division to be able to stand on its own should the need arise to reassign you. As I said, you're the only one everyone trusts."
"I see. Do you know what section I'll be heading?"
The Prime Minister laughed again. "Forgot that part. As it stands now, you'll be called Public Security Section 9. Unless someone comes up with a better name. But I doubt we'll change it. It's generic enough not to call attention to itself, and we'd rather you kept a low profile what with the cases you'll probably get thrown your way. We've had quite enough scandals to last us. In fact, one of your more important duties will be to keep potential scandals from happening by stopping individuals before they perform a scandal."
Irie stood and bowed. "I assure you I'll be up for the task, Prime Minister."
"You always are, Irie. You always are."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Whiplash took in her surroundings. As far as evil mastermind lairs went, it wasn't bad. She once worked in a subterranean base located in Antarctica that had terrible heating. Luckily the magic that had created her and her sister's costumes always made them feel as though it were a comfortable temperature no matter their surroundings. Fire or cold that would freeze the blood in your veins were more than they could handle, but when it came to natural temperatures, it was always pleasant. A very lucky thing considering how little skin they covered meant everything should have been drafty. But that lair had been the pits… literally. Carved out of rock, austere, spartan furnishings, and the plumbing was the worst. The pipes would always freeze and foul things up. They had to 'bucket brigade' it on one particularly nasty occasion. She and her sister were relieved when his plans ran afoul of the Fantastic Four, even if it resulted in their one-time prison stay. The plumbing always worked in prison, though.
But this place was nice. A large pagoda on top of a hill with a surrounding estate in a remote countryside location. It even had its own hot spring. The feng shui was done perfectly, and it was built on top of a ley line nexus. It was a rare combination of wealth, mysticism, and good taste.
Ideally an overlord they could work for.
They and the other members of Kang's group hadn't met him yet, only his minions: Power Man and Speed Demon. The speedster had been the blur who rescued her, Blacklash, and Pink, back at Stane-Daitokuji headquarters. He ran them to a safehouse nearby where they were joined by everyone but Ares. Apparently Tarou had worked for their boss before, though he was not happy when Power Man referred to him as 'Pantyhose.' A nickname like that had to have a backstory, a great one. She'd get Power Man to tell her later. It wouldn't take much convincing. He and his friend did little more than ogle her, Blacklash, and Pink's chests. In some ways it was like little kids (almost) seeing breasts for the first time rather than outright lechery like Tarou. There was an inappropriate amount of awe in them.
After a brief respite, they were transferred via a rented bus of all things to their current location. Once inside they were given a brief, and quick, tour of the grounds by Speed Demon before being ushered to the main entryway of the pagoda and told to wait.
"Nice place you got here," she said to Power Man.
He nodded. "We used to have really big castle, but it got blown up. The boss had to do some favors for the Yellow Claw to help us get back on our feet. But now we have a new base and some capital to work with."
Interesting. She knew the Yellow Claw by reputation. This 'Boss' must have had some serious abilities to charge this much while still maintaining his independence. Guys like the Yellow Claw preferred having powerful people working for them full-time.
A man emerged from the double doors leading to the interior of the building. He was slightly tall and slender of build. Hair, long and white, cascaded down his back and ended just below his waist. His age appeared to be in his early twenties. His face was handsome and full of character. He possessed a certain imperious air about him as though he were a man used to being obeyed. His outfit was form fitting showing a lithe, powerful build. He wore a shirt made of scale mail and had a purple cape flowing behind him. The most notable thing about him were his hands. On each one there was a ring, including the thumbs. There were not gems embedded on them, but odd projections in every color, obvious from even this distance.
He spoke, a voice echoing through the chamber and every bit as imperious as his bearing. "Greetings. I am the Mandarin. I assume all of you have heard of me. I have recruited you to work with me toward eventual world domination, for which you will be rewarded one nation each, of my choosing. You will be my Lethal Legion to render aid to achieve this noble goal."
Whiplash looked at her sister. One glance was all the communication they needed.
This was a big bad who could get things done.
Xxxxxxxxxxxx
Rally 'Bullseye' Vincent was in a maximum-security prison in permanent solitary confinement. She hadn't been incarcerated in a super villain prison because she didn't have any powers and her weapons were all conventional. Her skill set was that of an assassin, and she'd been classified as such.
She hadn't been extradited to the United States, where she was wanted for a lot more murders, because she was a prime candidate for the death penalty, which Japan was against. Also she had pled guilty to her and Nitro setting up and killing the Basher, so she was serving life here for that.
The reason she was in permanent solitary was due to the warden. Rally had convinced her she no different from the other maximum-security inmates and could exist in general population. The expert psychologists interviewed her and agreed. That lasted less than a day when she was confronted by the head of the gang in her block and five of her henchwomen. Since Rally was in her 'territory', she demanded tribute and allegiance. What she got was a slow tortuous death, but only after Rally killed the henchwomen first and quickly so there were no distractions when she went to work. Guards swarmed the area, but only after putting on full riot gear and three times the normal number of personnel that would ordinarily stop a fight, which gave Rally a bit of time to, as she put it later when asked why she did it, 'have some fun.'
Her fun cost the now former warden her job. The new one was more clear-headed and made it known the only way Rally Vincent was leaving solitary was if she was being extradited and became someone else's problem. He also put four times the number of guards on her, and each one got to see the results of her handwork before they were assigned to watch over her.
No one relaxed their guard for a second.
So Rally found herself bored out of her mind. All she could do to pass the time was isometrics, running in place, and having blood wet fantasies of what she would do with the love of her life when she got out. There were so many ways she and Daredevil could take each other out. Knives was her preferred choice, slashing each other open so their blood flowed into each other's open wounds. It was the only form of bonding on a physical level she could come up with that that might approximate their spiritual one. No one had come close to making her come like that. The bone breaking and blood letting made her aroused just thinking about it. She replayed every blow, every moment. It was like little slices of ecstasy.
And then a large, glowing white portal of energy, about five feet wide suddenly appeared in the cell. Looking inside it there was a corridor along its length leading to somewhere else, but only within the portal. Outside in the 'real' world was just the aperture. A passageway through space. Really had never seen one before but understood the concept. She didn't know anyone that could pull off a feat like this, but it was obviously an invitation, one that might not last long if she meandered about. True, she might be walking into a trap, but she'd be walking out of a trap she saw no way out of. She was lucky she hadn't died of boredom already.
So she entered the corridor of energy, walking across it like it was as solid as a normal floor. It was only about twenty feet long when she emerged into a large area that looked like a military compound. The idea was reinforced by the twenty uniformed soldiers with weapons trained on her. She recognized their uniforms as belonging to Genhoshan Magistrates. She smiled and said, "Hey boys." Then gauged the response. Not one of them twitched. Professionals. She was in this for real.
A man in a colonel's uniform spoke. "Pipeline, shut it down before we have Japanese prison guards breathing down our necks."
The corridor disappeared.
The man spoke to Rally this time. "Greetings, Bullseye. My government has a proposition for you."
Rally shrugged. "I'm all ears."
"We need someone that doesn't miss. Someone used to dealing with mutants and their ilk and won't flinch when it comes time to kill them."
"That's me," she agreed. She'd kill anyone. Except Minnie May. She liked her.
"We need you to kill Magneto."
And that made Rally laugh. If this nameless colonel killed her for mocking the absurdity of the statement, well there were worse ways to die. She had made a lot of people die in those ways. "I'm sorry, but you can't just shoot Magneto. Everyone knows he's got some kind of early warning sense or something and his powers enable him to surround himself with a forcefield that can repel anything."
"He constantly taps into Earth's magnetic field and can feel any fluctuation, including human beings, moving through it. The range is limited to 2.4 kilometers. We've lost a good many people testing it. Now Magneto doesn't announce when he's going to make public appearances. He usually destroys something in the name of mutantkind and the future subjugation of humanity, then issues a statement afterwards. He's focused much of his hate toward us of late, and he and his Brotherhood have extracted a heavy toll. That is why we are determined to kill him and make an example of him and those that would interfere in the manner in which we conduct our society on our native soil."
"Good to know," she said while not caring one iota. "So how do you expect me to kill him?"
The colonel scowled at her somewhat cavalier attitude. "We know a location he appears at regularly. He is visible for less than five seconds. Unfortunately the minimum shooting distance is at the far end of his ability to sense others. That is why we have developed a suit that can let the wearer move through Earth's magnetic field without disrupting it. Regrettably it can only function for about fifteen minutes before its power ends and you become 'visible' to him again. We also have a gun and bullets made of completely non-ferrous materials. Nothing you'll have will be able to be sensed by him. However, we have only one shot at this. If we fail to kill him, he'll change how he goes about things and we won't get another chance. That is why we broke you out of prison. We need someone that doesn't miss to take the shot."
"And what's in it for me?" She was certain it was death if she refused, but the question was expected of her. Besides, she wanted to know what they were offering.
"Freedom and five million for the hit. We'll even pay you up front. We'll transfer the money to wherever you want to prove we're on the up and up."
"That's… generous of you," Rally admitted, wondering what the catch was.
And the colonel provided it. "You'll remain with us until it's time to execute the hit. We trust you to perform it since right before you are sent to do it, one of our mutates will be planting a rather nasty disease within you, one that is fatal and is incurable. The good news is its incubation period is three days."
Ah, that was a good one. He could even be lying, but how could she verify it? "How do I know you won't just kill me afterward if you want me gone? You'd piss away five mil to off Maggy."
"Why would we, Miss Vincent? You are an assassin, one of the best, but merely an assassin. What harm could you do to our nation? Eliminate a few political leaders? New ones would be elected. And how many times could you do it before we hunted down and killed you? Magneto on the other hand could crush an entire tank division in the blink of an eye. That is a threat to us. Even if for some bizarre reason you would seek to attack us, you couldn't do in one year the damage he could do to us in a moment. We have no reason to betray you. We fully intend on taking credit for Magneto's death as a message to those that would seek to bring us down. If we can eliminate him, we can kill anyone." And he shrugged.
Rally smiled. A feral thing that unnerved even the hardened men in the room. The joke was on this colonel. She had only been asking about what happened afterward as a formality expected of her. Dear god, if she could kill someone like Magneto, one of the most powerful people on the planet? Had she been free and the Genoshans made the offer with no money attached, she'd have done it anyway. Hell, she'd have paid them for the opportunity. You didn't get a chance to kill someone like him. Someone supposedly unkillable.
She'd probably have a week's worth of orgasms in one go when she emptied his brain of its contents.
Only Daredevil's demise would make her climax harder. Because she loved him. Loved him to death. You couldn't love someone more than that. 'Normal' people didn't understand that. Their minds weren't capable of the depths of emotion hers was.
She was complicated that way.
"Show me everything you have."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Bill Foster asked.
"More than anything in the world," was the response Tofu gave.
He knew he should just let it go and get on with it, but his conscience nagged at him as badly as Claire at her worst. No, ultimately he could hop in the car and get away from her. No matter how far he drove, his conscience would always be there. "It's just I'm having second thoughts. Theoretically everything should be fine. All the simulations agree. But simulations are just that. Without a practical test, which we can't have since you're the only person with Pym Particles in them, I can't be certain there won't be side effects."
"These damned particles ruined my life and took the most important thing in it away from me!" he snapped. "I want them out even if they kill me!"
Well, that was clear. And over the intervening weeks they had been companions in Bill's lab, it had been a consistent statement. Actually the closer he got to removing them, the more emphatic Tofu became. He probably meant 'kill' in a literal sense. It was time to get on with it.
Over the course of Foster examining Pym's handiwork, he'd eventually discovered through trial and error with Tofu's blood that a mix of x-rays, gamma, and cosmic radiation would separate the Particles from the cells they were bonded with while remaining intact. Likewise it was about the mix of wavelengths rather than the intensity, so the radiation wouldn't have any side effects on that front.
The next issue was more personal: collecting the Particles for his reuse. There he had contacted Tony Stark and requested borrowing his absorbatron. Stark had been happy to help in exchange for Bill helping him with any bio-chemical problems he might encounter. He agreed immediately and was sent the machine which luckily could collect the cells, as later tests had proven.
Now it was the moment of truth. Tofu was strapped to a chair in front of the projector in a sealed room with Foster manning a nearby control panel. The concentration of rays had to be in the right amount and once started, it would be potentially fatal if the removal process was interrupted in anyway. It was all or nothing.
The projector was a mere two feet away from Tofu's chest. A large almost cannon-like barrel but with lenses in front where a shell would normally have fired out.
Foster double checked the power flow and reserve generator in case something interrupted the main one. The transition would be instantaneous so no chance of Tofu losing his life. Everything was in place.
"Here goes everything." And Bill pushed the button.
The combination of radiations was invisible to the naked eye, but according to the instruments everything was happening as it needed to. Visually it was anti-climatic since this entire moment had been the culmination of weeks of constant work. Readings indicated otherwise as the Particles flowed out of Tofu's cells and were collected in the nearby absorbatron. In three minutes and twenty-two seconds the last of the Pym Particles left Tofu's body forever.
It was over.
"How do you feel?" Bill asked as he went to undo the restraints.
Tofu smiled, an almost sinister thing with immediately gave Bill the creeps. It reminded him of Maurice Brown, a kid who had lived in his neighborhood when he was in grade school. No one ever liked him because of that creepy smile. No one was surprised when it turned out he had been torturing small animals to death. He smiled like that when people asked him about it. Then his parents sent him away for 'treatment,' which was in a sanitarium where he still was to this day because there was no cure for that kind of crazy.
Tofu said, "I feel like a great burden has been removed from me. It's like I've been under pressure my whole life and I'm finally free to breathe air for the first time. It's a wonderful sensation." And his smile became normal so quickly it was as though the first one had never been there.
"I'm going to run some tests to make sure everything's all right."
"Of course," Tofu said, "You can never be too careful, but I can already tell you the result. It all went just as it was meant to be. Yes, I know as a doctor self-diagnosis can be a terrible thing, but sometimes you have to acknowledge your gut instinct. So test away and we'll see if my prediction matches the reality."
Now Bill was really doubting what he had seen. This sounded like a man just as he should be: relieved of something he had held in the same regard as a terminal disease and elated that he had been told it wasn't just in remission: it was gone completely.
Besides, once Tofu received a clean bill of health, Foster had his own plans with what to do with the Pym Particles now in his possession.
Xxxxxxxx
Jessie Gartland couldn't remember the last time she had felt this excited. Maybe the first time her father had let her perform at his side when she was six, and already better than anyone other than Barton or her father. Her performance had been so outstanding she had become a regular in the act until she became good enough to do her own show. Then her mother had gotten married to that Japanese guy and wanted her to move to Japan for a while to be with her, and Jessie had agreed. Besides, it was for the best as she had begun feeling stifled always being next to her father. She needed to spread her proverbial wings and fly a bit on her own.
Then things really took off when she figured out Kuonji's real identity. Upstaging Hawkeye appealed to her showmanship in a manner nothing else ever had. It was almost like a narcotic. She was still figuring out how to go about it, since Kuonji did have those gadget arrows that were more than a cut above regular ones, when she was contacted by the U.S. government about being a candidate in a new initiative that they wanted to start. When someone came over and told Jessie what it entailed and why she'd be perfect for it, hell, she had never been a believer in destiny, but now she couldn't deny it. Oh, she and Hawkeye were going to have their showdown. Now it was inevitable.
Sadly she wasn't just given the role she deserved. Jessie had to jump through all sorts of hoops, some reasonable like actually testing her physical abilities and skill with the bow, but the psychological tests were absurd. In fact many of them seemed to have little to do with psychology and were more about her beliefs in things that should have had nothing to do with the role they wanted her in. While she passed all the physical ones (big surprise), most of the psychological ones she was barely passing. So much so she heard she was close to being removed from the program. Then she figured out she had to give the answers they wanted to hear, even if they were wrong. Once she did that, she was passing with flying colors and yesterday, had been informed she'd been accepted.
Today Jessie had been flown to the converted FEMA camp in upstate New York that would serve as the initiative's headquarters. Two of her teammates were already on site and she wanted to meet them. She was informed they were in the gymnasium, so she went to introduce herself to her new partners.
Staff informed her of where it was located. When she arrived she was impressed with the state-of-the-art facility it was. Clearly some of the equipment was deigned for super humans, which she wasn't. Oh well, as Hawkeye had proven, skill could even the ground with people who were bulletproof and could toss cars around like wadded up balls of tissue paper. Once her weapons were fabricated. She heard Tony Stark was involved in their manufacture. She couldn't wait to test them out and familiarize herself with the exotic weaponry. She had to do that before any confrontation with Hawkeye was going down.
Jessie spotted a pair of people standing next to one another: an attractive woman with long, flowing black hair, dressed in tights that showed off an athletic frame, and a very tall, blond man in looser gear that looked like a chiseled Greek god. She recognized him immediately and like most people he commanded all of her attention.
"Mr. Rogers!" Everyone knew Steven Rogers III. Multiple Olympic Gold medal winner in damn near every event he entered. Drop dead gorgeous. Grandson of the most reputable senator in congress. Voted most eligible bachelor by heterosexual women and gay men alike three years running. Pity about his father being such a dirtbag, though. No one held it against him anymore, unless they were the jealous type that were looking for something to complain about.
He turned at the sound of her voice and gave a dazzling smile that suddenly made Jessie happier than even joining the team. Upstaging Hawkeye was still what would make her happiest, but this, this was a close second. Hmm, he was only ten years older than her. That wasn't too much in her book. Besides, most women like older guys and most guys liked younger women.
"You must be our new teammate." He greeted her with an outstretched hand which she accepted.
"Jessie Gartland. Resident archer." Definitely a strong grip. And now that she was this close to him, she sure wouldn't mind it gripping other parts of her body at some point.
The woman greeted her somewhat more coolly. "Greer Nelson. Resident cat."
"Oh?"
"Has to do with the program I was part of," she explained.
"We're all here for the same reason, if approaching it from different directions," Rogers informed her. "I understand a number of other recruits are undergoing processing as well. All newcomers, though. For some reason they want a group of government originated heroes rather than anyone from established teams, like the New Warriors or Thunderbolts."
"I didn't realize that," she said.
"I don't think it really matters. We'll be training enough together we'll be at least as good as any of them. Hopefully even better. I have every confidence it'll only be a matter of time before the Champions are going to be setting the standard other teams will follow," Rogers said.
"Or surpass." Jessie already had her codename picked out: Golden Archer. Wait until Hawkeye got a load of her.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Four members of the Phantom Troupe waited in the underground hospital, in every sense of the word, next to their leader's prone form. He lay in a hospital bed, unmoving, with IVs leading into his arms to keep him alive. They had tried to keep word of Mimic's comatose condition from leaking out; the Troupe had many powerful enemies that would love to dispatch him in his helpless state. Despite their precautions, by assuring all the criminals working in the illegal center they would die painfully if word leaked out, they maintained a number of guards. In this case Blockbuster, Copycat, Binary Bug, and Needle, sufficient to make most attackers fail miserably and die painfully. So far it had proven needless, but better to have something and not need it than need something and not have it.
Blockbuster, near seven feet and five hundred pounds of pure muscle, dressed in a furry vest that showed off his massive chest, blue pants, and thick boots complained, "I still say we should have forced Destiny to snap him out of it."
Binary Bug, a younger blonde man dressed in armor that made him look vaguely beetle-like, stopped playing his video game and looked to the giant. "It wouldn't have done any good. She told him not to use his power again and ditch it. He ignored her and did it anyway. Turned out it was a sound advice."
"We don't know that's what happened," he grumbled.
Needle, a young woman with her black hair drawn back in a topknot and wearing a short pink dress with most of the back cut out, released an exasperated sigh. "It's what makes the most sense. We'll figure a way to break him out of this induced coma." She pulled out a needle and began spinning it on her fingertip.
"I don't think a high-level telepath is the solution," Binary Bug said, continuing to move his fingers across his game screen. "We need a power negator of some kind."
"Oh yes, bring someone that can shut down our abilities near us. That's a brilliant idea." Copycat, whose hair was so long his face couldn't be seen and wore a wide cloak, so his body was hidden, commented.
"We need to break the boss out of his coma so we can get on with our lives. We're going to lose that New York job if this takes too long," Binary Bug said. "I really don't want to try it with anything less than the entire team, and we can't leave Lucifer alone."
Before yet another argument broke out, Blockbuster's phone rang. He pulled it out of his fur-lined vest and answered it. The others watched as a wide smile blossomed across his face. He put the phone back and looked at each of them in turn.
"Elektra's surfaced."
The others smiled as well. It was about time they had a chance to avenge the loss of one of their own.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
[End Story}
And so we get a glimpse of some the events, in no particular order, that would happen at some point in the future when I eventually feel like coming back to this. But this is a great place to stop… except for the Omake and 2nd Handbook Update I want to release after this. That way it'll focus on the newer characters from Act V on and the original Handbook won't get so big it'll be nearly impossible to navigate, thus defeating the purpose of the Handbook. You'll note a lot of the scenes are dangling plot threads, like Jessie's that I had left a while ago but never really touched on. Some are newer like the Phantom Troupe, but there's a wide variety out there.
Oh yes, and at long last the official return of Herb, the Mandarin. Astute readers might have noticed the Shinsengumi's swords abilities were from his rings. That was why Tigra/Elektra was trying to spot him during the fight.
But yeah, this is the right kind of ending, if not perfect closure, to the series. And you can let your imaginations run riot with what might be to come, or like David Dee just come up with an idea for an entire team composed of other anime characters that could run rampant through here.
There are plenty of antics and adventures and whatnot out there. Only so much time to do them, and other ideas I would like to do. But this was a heck of a lot of fun world building… universe building I guess might be a more operative term, and it's been fun to do. I still think this might be the longest time to complete a fanfic since it started in late 99 and finished in 2020. And then there's the possibility of addenda over time. But like I said before, I didn't want to pull a Jordan and kick the bucket before it was finished.
As a man far better and more imaginative than me might use as a sendoff.
Excelsior.
