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If any of the bystanders in this metropolitan city were to look heavenward at this very moment, they would see a battle of titans the likes of which Canada has never seen. Not Llan the Sorcerer, not the Dream Queen… No, this was between the Alphan called Nemesis and a villain who once was the archeologist named Brad Whitford. Now and forever, he is Carcaas! It took place on the rooftops of the skyscrapers. Nemesis arrived moments before, gesturing with one hand and the other was holding a magick sword. Carcaas had a weapon, also, Talisman’s tiara that he wore on his brow. “Know that you will now perish, Nemesis,” Carcaas said, transforming into his dead form. “By my hand and my hand alone. You are frightened of death and the living embodiment of death. I rule the deadlands in the area called Canada.” This villain likes to talk, Nemesis thought, as she tried to lead the demon into an area that was not conducive to the bystanders being nothing but cannon fodder. I would much rather fight it out. And for me to save Canada, I must destroy this being. With a single motion, Nemesis flung her body into the air, embedding her sword into the body of Carcaas. The sound it made was a thunk. Carcaas screamed, a bellow that would make a banshee proud. Nemesis let go of the sword, as it stuck within the demon’s body. Carcaas pulled the sword out, throwing it back at the red garbed heroine. The action caught the Alphan totally by surprise. She picked up her sword, ready to do battle again. Our of her peripheral vision, she saw an undead creature creeping up behind her. It was a giant, all zombie like that was a pure manifestation of Carcaas’ unbridled power. The zombie giant’s only thought was that of attack. It grabbed Nemesis by the waist. The giant’s grip was so tight that she felt that she would drop her sword to the rooftop again. She struggled and finally, was able to break the creature’s grasp by chipping away of its zombie like skin with a swipe of her weapon. The zombie screamed in kind. Then, the Alphan chopped off the giant’s head and arms and legs with one cleave of her sword. The remainder of the giant’s stump collapsed onto the surface of the rooftop. It was defeated. “See you may slow my creatures down but you will never defeat me,” Carcaas said, proudly. A glow surrounded the man and then, he disappeared. The sword emanated and soon, Nemesis, too, was elsewhere. Elizabeth Twoyoungmen knew that she was virtually powerless to stop Carcaas because she did not possess her tiara and furthermore, she was too close to his human host, Brad Whitford. Over the years, she had fallen in love with Brad, from afar. She never voiced her true feelings for him but she did go public with her secret identity as Talisman. The situation with Brad gone totally out of control. He was Carcaas now. He had turned from good friend to deepest enemy. Her father, Shaman, had told her to go back to her apartment and relax. Let the pros handle it. But she was nothing if not a professional when she had her powers. She slouched in her couch and turned on the television. Maybe the news would cheer her up. No rapists or murderers on the news tonight. She saw a blurry visual from a bystander’s cellphone camera of Nemesis’ fight with Carcaas atop a rooftop. She was furious. She felt so powerless. She had to get her tiara back. Even if by force. She was so lost in thought that at first she didn’t hear the doorbell ring and the banging on the door. It must have been the landlord demanding money. She hadn’t paid him all month. She opened the door and was greeted by a crowd of human demons. Now she was in trouble deep. She slammed the door in their face and raced for her purse. There was her cellphone where she could contact Alpha Flight on their hotline. By the time that it took her to reach her purse, the demons had smashed the door open. She had completed half the call, was halfway taking to Gentry, when she was severely interrupted. The demons started to crowd her, to enclose her for the final kill. She was dead. She had no tiara. But she had to fight back. She gestured with her hands, eyes closed, and a bolt of mystical energy exited her body. She remembered when she was a teenager she could harness mystical forces without wearing the tiara. The tiara harnessed the energy and gave her a focal point. “You want some of this, Carcaas,” she said to the demons, referring to their master, “well, come and get it, baby!” Before she could renew her attack, a portal opened below her and a hand pulled her through it. The demons were left confused. On the other side of the portal in the Alpha Complex, Shaman and the rest of the Flight greeted Liz. She knew that her father was the one to rescue her from the jaws of death. They must have been notified by Gentry to save her before the demons devoured her. In an abandoned tenement building, Carcaas waited for the coming battle. His demons were laying waste to Canada but they have failed to bring Talisman to him. He saw through their eyes that Shaman had come through a portal and vanished with her. It doesn’t matter. She may be able to exert some of her old powers without the tiara but with the weapon in his possession, she was now powerless to his greater magicks. His meditation was now over. Shaman and Elizabeth Twoyoungmen came through a second portal into his room. Shaman was clad in his costume while Liz was in civvies. Shaman reached into his medicine pouch and out forth poured live vines that Carcaas turned into dead ones before they could entrap him. He knew what they wanted. They sought the tiara upon his brow. Too bad it didn’t boost his powers as it did Talisman’s. For him, the only purpose it fulfilled was being a head ornament. But the battle was on. He had to fight for his right to live. Shaman seemed to be protecting Talisman. So she was powerless or her father thought that he, Carcaas, had a chance of killing her. Shaman reached out with his arm and pulled the tiara from Carcaas’ brow. It caused him little pain, only the shock of the Alphan actually doing that deed. Now, Carcaas was on the defensive. Shaman tossed the tiara to his daughter’s willing hands. Liz placed the tiara upon her brow and she was suddenly changed. Her outer clothes, which were her civilian attire, changed to the costume of Talisman. “Talisman, separate your friend from this beast,” Shaman exclaimed. Talisman gestured her arm and an exorcism took place. Brad Whitford knelt on the ground beside his keeper. He seemed in a daze, and Carcaas, or what remained of him, was recovering from the separation. Eldritch energy surrounded Carcaas, transporting him to his nether dimension, hopefully not to return to Canada for a very long time. Talisman has won the battle. Earth was safe once more. On the other side of the large expansive Combat Room, Alpha Flight’s training facility, housed within the |Alpha Complex, Guardian, the living symbol of Canada, heard the grunts and growls from across the empty room from his team-mate and close friend, Sasquatch, the scientist called Walter Langkowski. Right now, they are in the midst of training and honing their vast strengths and powers to prepare themselves for the next coming battle with their sworn enemies. Guardian smiled a large egregious smile, as Sasquatch hurled his mighty arm forward, covered with orange fur at his red and white friend. To avoid direct contact, Guardian used evasive maneuvers that he learned in the armed forces in the 1970s when he first donned his traditional costume. Namely, those maneuvers consisted of flips, back flips, and somersaults to land mere feet from contact of the anthropodial fist. His execution of the maneuver was simply flawless and simply, a sight to see, if there was a casual observer to these proceedings. Guardian noticed that once the fist missed its target, it returned to its owner. "Very good," commented Guardian, clapping appropriate applause at the display, "But I'm afraid, not nearly good enough to defeat our enemies who would want nothing more than to ensure our simplest destruction. I expected better of you, Sas. If you wish to rid yourself of the evils of the world, you would have to prepare yourselves for every eventuality." And then, as slowly as the action of the beastly transformation was complete, Walter, with equal slowness, opened his mouth to offer a kindly rebuttal to Guardian's words of condemnation. "I think you have a good point, Guardian. I have made an error today. What say you that we begin this exercise anew, this time without our powers. I think that your battlesuit would be just as useless as my beastly alterego." "To borrow a line from my mutant compatriot, Wolverine, 'Your funeral, bub!'" Guardian said with pure passion in his voice. In some instances, Guardian meant every word he spoke when he said that this would be Walter's funeral. Though Sasquatch held superior strength in most respects, Guardian had the mind of a born leader of strategems on how to overpower any foe, including a friend and fellow team-mate, not to mention his superior agility. Guardian was confidant that he would win this battle of titans. Walter leaped forward, connecting with Guardian's body and hurling the proud Canadian ever backward against the far wall of the facility. There was a loud thud as the two bodies slammed against hard reinforced steel. A smile of victory spread easily across Walter's thin face, his blonde hair brushing in the wind of the onslaught. “You have got to be kidding me, Sasquatch," Guardian said, as he propelled his twin legs forward, hitting Walter squarely on the chest, thrusting the heavy body in the opposite direction. Walter landed mere feet away from the crouching Guardian. Before the Alphan had a chance to recover from the attack, Guardian ran at top speed toward him, years of training behind his motions, and ended with a series of punches and fierce kicks to the head and torso. Now, between attacks, Guardian realized what was holding back the scientist. Walter must have been afraid, albeit slightly, of hurting a close friend of his. But, he thought further, that his fears were at best misguided. Guardian was trained by the best and defeated the hardest of criminals. But now, above all other times, Guardian was going to prove Walter wrong. Just then, their battle was interrupted by a hologram taking form in front of their fighing forms. The figure looked nothing more than a robot of complicated design. It was silver and crimson hued and surprisingly, a somewhat humanoid voice escaped its metallic lips. "Attention, Alphans. I hate to interrupt your session in the Combat room but we got trouble in the main lab. I suggest you get here as soon as possible. I've already summoned the rest of the team to accopmpany you." "Thanks, Box," Guardian responded, as he and Walter both stood up. When the hologram faded away into infinity, Guardian turned to Walter and said, "Well, you heard the man, Walt. Looks like we got a new mission for us and looks like none too soon. What say we head on over there to say what Madison has cookin' for us?" Responding to his mental commands, Walter changed to Sasquatch and he felt its supreme power coursing through his hands. "Let's be off." Guardian shouted the battle cry "Alphans Attack!" as he shut off the room's training facilities and the two made their way to the lab down the hall. James MacDonald Hudson cannot believe that he is in the same room as one of the most intelligent men in the world. Or supposedly, as the newspapers and tabloids say. Whitman Knapp has single-handedly revolutionized Canadian and world technology in the past few years than the entire human race has done in decades and centuries. Over the years, Manikin has traveled with Beta Flight through different dimensions and through time. He has also come into contact with alien races that seek Earth's domination. And right now, he wishes he is spending a lazy Sunday with his wife, Kara. James looks at him. They are so ordinary, he thinks. "Is there nothing that you can do for her then?" James pleads to him. Electricity sparks from his battle suit and it hums to life. "I'm sorry," Whitman explains. "This is a difficult case. There is hardly anything that I can do for Kara Killgrave. Her mental wounds are so extensive that she needs the best neurosurgeons. She was attacked by all of us. That is not my expertise. I'm a scientist, not a doctor. As for the Purple Man, I am also sorry. That is a lost cause. Believe me, we've tackled criminals from different dimensions and it takes a lot of work, patience, and time." "I am sorry to have wasted your time," James says blankly, light glinting off of his eye. "Do not worry about it, Dr. Hudson. If there is any way that we can help you, do not hesitate to ask." James releases a small chuckle. "It is ironic that you can not help us. I guess there's a first time for everything." Manikin smiles. Heather reaches and shakes his hand firmly. "I'm really sorry for Kara. Tell her we wish her the best. We hope she gets better soon. There can never be too many super heroes." Whitman nods. "Yes. I will tell her that." "Give her and Alpha our best," James adds. James's suit sparkles to life, lifting him in the air. He waves goodbye to them and with the buzz and hum of energy, disappears. They were looking at Guardian; Aurora, Judd, and Prof. Langkowski. He was a symbol of what Canada was all about. He had the flag on his costume, so the Canadian people would have someone to identify with. Someone to uphold their ideals and fight for justice and the pursuit of happiness. But he was just a tired, old soldier. A soldier that was needed for support again, and not to help an innocent. He couldn't. He felt so vulnerable. "And just to bring you up to date," Dr. Gilsoki said, firmly, palming through Kara Killgrave's file. "The young girl has been withdrawn for a few weeks now and it looks like she won't come out of it for a long time. It seems almost hopeless. But the Alphans have told me that her mother may be able to help her. I know it sounds crazy. When I first heard the idea, I almost laughed out loud. But it may work." "So, you think a reunion with her mother can help the Killgrave girl?" Guardian asked, concerned. "Yes, her ability to soothe the harsh reality of being attacked by her teammates... maybe she can bring her back to reality. It's a long shot, I know, but it's the only chance we've got." Guardian was thinking this over. For Alpha Flight, it was the biggest decision of their lives. He alone could save one of their members. But what if Mrs. Killgrave couldn't do it? What if Kara only became worse? What if--? No, he shouldn't worry about these things. Only the good, only the positive. He wasn't going to bog himself down with the bad. "I could talk to her," he finally said. "I don't know what will happen. I'm sure Mrs. Killgrave will want to help, to aid a mutant but--" "But what?" Judd asked. "There could be a catastrophe. What if someone dies?" "We can't worry about that," Walter interrupted. "We have to take the chance. I've looked at Kara. She will pull through someday, but she's slipping. It's almost as if her mother is her anchor. We have to try. That's all we ask." "I'll go back to the Killgrave house to speak to her. I'm not sure where she is now but I will discuss it with her. But in the meantime, I will send Beta Flight to guard Kara's room. It would be horrible if something happened while I was-- I rather be safe." Walter shook his hand. "Thank you." Guardian left the room.
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