#2 February 2007

Banner breathed a sigh of relief as the group emerged into the Sanctum’s foyer. The room was both warm and surprisingly quiet. The howling of the wind outside faded instantly from hearing. It was as though they had stepped into another world.

Lowering the hood of his coat, Banner began to rub the circulation back into his hands as he looked around.

Hellblade struck a match on the stone wall and lit a cigarette.

“Not too shabby for a mausoleum, eh?”

Banner nodded quickly. Of his three compatriots, the dark-skinned limey made him the least nervous. If not for the charred black sword he wore strapped to his back, he might have even seemed normal.

And, in this case at least, Hellblade was right. The entrance hall looked the same as it had when Banner had last visited, on eve of the doctor’s disappearance. It was a round room, with staircases spiraling up from the east and west walls to an open second store balcony. From there a stained glass window shaped like an ankh allowed a stream of yellow light into the room, which seemed to somehow permeate every corner. The furnishings were all teakwood, and beautiful oriental throw rugs covered the floors. The room seemed both huge and cozy at the same time.

On one of the in-tables, a golden bust of the Egyptian god Thoth drew Banner’s attention. He felt compelled to touch it but, as he reached out, a thin hand grasped his wrist.

“Careful,” warned White Witch, “there may be traps. No one touch anything without my say so.”

Dr. Satana looked up from her study of the hall’s voluminous bookshelves. “Your say so? I do not care for the tone of that. I thought we agreed this was to be an equal partnership?”

There was menace in her voice, they all felt it, but the White Witch only laughed. Wanda Zatara was a beautiful woman, her long black and white streaked hair framing a beguilingly innocent face. For years she had been a pupil of the doctor and her mastery of sorcery ranked among the greatest on earth. Few were those who could match her powers, fewer still who could resist her charm.

Pursing her lips, Wanda answered, almost playfully, “Of course it is darling. I was only thinking of our dear friend’s safety. The doctor was a terribly suspicious man, after all, and not above leaving a nasty surprise or two behind.”

Dr. Satana scowled but didn’t press the point. It was well known there was no love loss between the two women, ever since they had butted heads in Salem City.* Banner was surprised the White Witch had even called her in, which if nothing else showed how serious Wanda was about this mission.

* (See Days of Black Inferno #6 (of 12), now in TPB! - Al)

“Maybe,” he mumbled, hoping to break the tension, “we should keep moving?”

Hellblade took a puff from his cigarette and grunted. “Right. Sooner this shit’s over, the better, I say. Let’s go see if the good doctor’s in.”

The White Witch smiled her agreement and hooked an arm around Hellblade’s. “Yes, dear, let’s.”

Together the four approached the stairwell and began the long climb to the Inner Sanctorum and whatever awaited them within.

---

Three hours later they were still climbing.

Sweat beaded on Banner’s forehead and the ache in his legs extended up the small of his back. He was not used to this much exertion. Amazingly his partners seemed unfazed, although he thought he detected a slump in Hellblade’s shoulders.

“You’d think the git would have installed an elevator,” the limey groused.

“I doubt the doctor would have had any use for one.” The White Witch floated along just an inch or two above the steps, using levitation spells to keep herself free of exertion. “And he wasn’t one to worry about inconveniencing others.”

An understatement if Banner had ever heard one.

Hellblade must have been thinking the same thing. “Which reminds me,” he said, “the hell you all doing here trying to find the bastard? Last I checked the world was better off without him.”

“The same reason you’re here, I imagine,” said Dr. Satana. “We owe him.”

None of them could deny the truth of that. Before Banner had met the doctor he’d been driven nearly insane by his condition. Strangefate had shown him the means to control it, to cage the creature inside him, and find a way to continue living. For that he had Banner’s eternal gratitude, but the doctor had extracted his own payment over the years. One sometimes nearly as terrible as the Skulk itself.

In the end, Banner wasn’t certain why he was here. Only that he was.

“S’at so? Don’t tell me the old bastard took your maidenhood. Always guessed him to be a bit of a poof, running about in his silk jamies all the time like that.”

“Please,” Dr. Satana sniffed, “we were cordial at best.”

“Then what’s the real dirt?”

“And why would you care, Hellblade? We’re not here to make new friends.”

He shrugged. “Just bored, luv, and I ain’t had a proper bed time story in weeks. S‘why I been so cranky.”

Dr. Satana frowned, appearing to consider the request. Her pixie-ish face looked pale against the blood red of her long coat and short spiky hair. “It’s hardly the stuff of bed time stories.”

“Maybe you just ain’t seen my bed lately.”

She ignored the comment. Now that Dr. Satana had started to speak, she seemed compelled to continue. “If you must hear it, I’ll be brief. In short, my mother was raped by a demon named Koth and the union produced two children. Twins. Me and my brother Damion.”

While Dr. Satana spoke, the group continued to move upwards, her voice bouncing off the thick stone walls ahead of them.

“Mother died in birth and we were placed in an orphanage, where the Cult of Satannish soon found us. We were taught to harness our dark heritage so we could be used as tools of the Cult. I was given the Sigil of Seven to focus my powers.” Here Dr. Satana produced the black onyx pentagram from the folds of her coat, holding it carelessly out to them. It seemed to pulsate in her hand.

“And so we worked for them, my brother and I, until Dr. Strangefate freed me from their power.* And that is why I owe him my life.”

* (Way, way back in the now classic Tales of Strangefate #13 - Al)

Banner glanced at the others and their placid faces, then back to Dr. Satana. “Your brother?” he found himself muttering, not certain why, perhaps just to beat back the quiet. The talking distracted him from the jolting pain in his legs. “Did he escape with you?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice icy, betraying emotion only in the hard lines of her jaw. “But he choose to go back to them, to follow their ways in earnest. He leads them now and can die with them too for all I care.”*

* (Tales of Strangefate #157)

Banner could guess the rest. From there on, Strangefate would have used Dr. Satana’s debt as leverage to call on her whenever he needed her services. Callously using her to run his dangerous errands, sending her out to hellish worlds and dimensions seen only in nightmares, for reasons he alone understood. Banner knew it only too well.

Now they were here to find him, so it could start again. Or would this be it? Would their debts finally be repaid? He wondered.

“And what about you?” Dr. Satana asked, turning to Hellbade.

“What about me? I said I wanted to hear a story, not tell one.” The limey grinned crookedly and made a forward motion with his head. “Besides, luv, we’re here.”

They had reached the top of the stairs.

---

Like everything else in Dr. Strangefate’s lair, the Inner Sanctorum proved larger inside then its outside dimensions suggested.

And, unlike the foyer room, it made no pretense at hominess. Solid marble floors and a cavernous ceiling lent a cathedral atmosphere to the Sanctorum. Its only decorations were the arcane statues that dotted its walls and the endless shelves of artifacts and totems, a virtual warehouse of history and power.

From the center of the room rose a massive throne carved from polished limestone. It was layered in ancient hieroglyphics and mystic signs, and had served as the apex from which Dr. Strangefate had once ruled his domains. It now lay overturned, cracked in a half-dozen places and nearly unrecognizable.

The sight of it sent a shiver up Banner’s spine. He could not help but recall the familiar figure of the doctor, sitting atop it and handing down orders from high like some otherworldly pharaoh. It still seemed impossible he was gone.

“Look at this bloody place,” Hellblade said in whisper, “there must be enough magic housed here to destroy half the planet.”

“If not more,” replied Dr. Satana, passing by a collection of magical weapons, including replicas of the Infinity Spear and Thorion’s hammer. “It’s amazing that no one has beaten us here. The security has been surprisingly lax.”

“Gift horses and all that, luv. Let’s not temp fate, here of all places.”

Banner, for his part, kept his distance from the displays. Following the White Witch’s warning, he had made certain to touch nothing. There was little here he was willing to die for.

Meanwhile, the White Witch was moving rapidly between the shelves, as though looking for some thing in particular.

“Anybody home? Come out, come out, ya daft old bastard.”

“Perhaps,” Banner ventured, “he really is gone. Perhaps the Sanctum has been abandoned, after all.”

It was a comforting thought, at least to his mind. They had done their part and the doctor was nowhere to be found. Now it was just for them to destroy the Sanctum, or at least seal it up so others couldn’t rob its storehouses, and wash their hands of Strangefate once and for all. A happy ending, or close enough.

He should have known it was never that easy.

“Look!”

Dr. Satana’s voice rang sharply through the chamber and everyone turned to face her. She was standing in front of an iron tripod on which a yellow-ish orb rested.

“The Orb of Nabu,” Banner said, immediately recognizing it. The Orb had been one of the doctor’s most powerful items, another sign he was gone for good. He would never just leave it behind. “It’s of no use to us…”

“No, you idiot,” she said, “I mean look! Inside it!”

Banner leaned forward, peering down into the Orb. It seemed to be filled with swirling yellow vapors. “I don’t see anything,” he began to say, and then suddenly he did.

Deep within the Orb, nearly enveloped by the mists, was a man, no larger then Banner’s own fist. He was naked and his face stretched taut with pain. Banner would have recognized him anywhere. The man was Charles Xavier. He did not seem to be aware of their presence.

“Christ,” Hellblade said, reaching for his sword. “We have to get him out of there.”

“Don’t!”

Banner turned to see the White Witch had finally joined them. She sounded nervous, frightened almost. “Don’t touch it.”

Hellblade scowled back her. “Any why the hell not?”

“You don’t know what kind of magics are imprisoning him. If you damage the Orb, you may injure him. Maybe even kill him,” she answered quickly, her eyes still darting from shelf to shelf. “Just leave it for now. Just wait a moment and then I’ll-”

“And then you’ll what?” growled Dr. Satana. “Spare a second to help us free your master? Or is that even why you’re here? Ever since we were waylaid at that SHIELD Outpost*, I’ve suspected there were things you weren’t telling us.”

* (More Strange Tales #198 - Al)

“You’re being foolish,” she stuttered, trying to turn away from them.

Hellblade grabbed her by the shoulder.

“Just a minute, luv. You’ve been acting a mite strange ever since we stepped in here. Mind telling us what is you’re so damned eager to find?”

She tried to pull away but he held fast, causing her to stumble forward, where she struck the base of a life-sized Anubis hard enough to knock the statue over. It shattered in a dozen pieces. “Curse you, I don’t have time for this!” she screeched, now clearly panicked. “We only have a few more minute before-”

Her voice was cut off as a deep rumbling passed through the room. It seemed to come from everyplace at once, vibrating through the floor and down the walls. Items tumbled from their shelves and clouds of dust rained down from the ceiling.

Banner’s heart began to hammer in his chest. “We should get out of here,” he stammered, “we should get of here, we should get out…!”

Nobody listened. It was too late anyways.

The Inner Sanctorum’s security had been activated. Cerespero the Danger Room had come alive.

“Bollocks.”

---

Everything after that was a blur for Banner.

Cerespero appeared to rise up from the floor--to be the floor in fact--until the creature filled the whole of his vision. It was monstrous, over fifteen feet tall, its body a mix of marble, limestone, Egyptian statues and whatever else it absorbed from the room as it grew. A faceless orb hovered where a head should be, its open third eye--the Eye of Ra--casting a bone-aching heat through the chamber.

Banner remained rooted to the spot, uncertain what to do.

At first though, the battle seemed to go surprisingly well.

Drawing his sword, Hellblade rushed forward and dodged the first sweep of the creature’s fist. His blade slashed once and cut through its marble wrist like butter. Cerespero’s hand crashed to the floor, nearly knocking the limey off his feet.

Dr. Satana reacted just as quickly, casting a ruby shield around herself, just in time to deflect a barrage of rubble the creature telekinetically hurled at her. Hellfire erupted from her Sigil, turning the creature’s entire left side into a super-heated blob.

And then, just as fast, the situation changed.

The creature took another swing at Hellblade, and he dodged again, his sword coming in for a second blow. This one never reached home. A stalagmite of marble shot up from the floor beneath him, severing his arm at the shoulder. He looked in dumb wonder at the blood seeping through his coat, even as the creature’s stump swung back around, smashing him across the room like a rag doll.

Meanwhile, Dr. Satana’s stream of hellfire had stopped. Her legs were buckling and her shield flickered as more debris stuck it. Blood began to run from her nose and eyes, although Banner could not see what was hurting her.

Then he felt it too, a pounding in his brain. Psychic attacks, he realized; the creature was a telepath on top of everything else. The pain was enough to rouse him though, and he knew it was time.

He let the Skulk loose.

Contortions racked Banner’s body and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the White Witch stop her casting. Dr. Satana, now on her knees, her shield nearly gone, was staring out at her with pleading eyes. The White Witch hesitated only a moment before she turned, grabbing something from the ground at her feet, and raced back towards the stairs they had entered from.

Banner did not know whether she made it or not. A dark rage was now coursing through his blood, scrambling his thoughts.

“Skulk smash!” he heard a horrible voice scream--his own?--before launching himself into Cerespero’s bulk.

At which point, Banner’s conscious faded out and the Skulk took over.

---

Epilogue

“And the Midnight Sentinels? I take it Cerespero took care of them?”

“As far as I know. I’ve never known anyone to overcome the doctor’s creation. It seems impossible they escaped.”

Her host smiled, his attention drifting back to the item on the table before him. A rounded golden helmet with two slits for eyeholes.

“So is it what you wanted?”

“Indeed,” he answered, running his hand across the smooth crown. “The Helm of Agamotto will be of invaluable aid to my plans. You have done very well.”

The White Witch nodded. “And what about my reward?”

“You shall get what you have earned, my dear, rest assured.”

“And Xavier? Will you free him when it’s over?”

“Free my old friend?” The man laughed. “No, I think I prefer him just where he is, at least for the time being. I have no further use of him.” His laughter died off and his smile turned cruel, his eyes narrowing to darkened slits in his sickly green face.

“Or, for that matter,” he added, completing the spell he’d been preparing, “you, my dear.”

Wanda barely had time to scream before the damage was done, and the man paid little attention to her final agonizing gasps. Standing up from the table, he took the Helm in hand and studied his reflection in its golden surface.

He now possessed the Cloak and the Helm both, leaving only the All-Seeing Eye out of his grasp. And his agents were even now closing in on it. The Jade girl would not last long. Yes, he thought, everything was falling exactly into place.

The world was about to remember the name of Baron Wotan.

The world was about to learn of its new master.

---

Next: Don’t miss our Shocking Conclusion in the Tales of Strangefate Giant-Sized Special! July 2007! And be sure to check back here next month for another exciting tale from Amalgam Revisited!

The Strangefate Letters

Cerespero the Danger Room first appeared in Tales of Strangefate #75. Created from the astral energies of an alien tyrant and bound to the Sanctum by Dr. Strangefate, the psionic golem is able to control the very structure of the Sanctum in its defense. It once fought both Thorion and the Iron Lantern to a stand still (Showcase of Suspense #105) and may be one of the most powerful creatures in the Amalgam Universe.

But enough history. Onto the mail bag!

The following letters were in written in response to the first part of the Midnight Sojourn arc, which premiered in More Strange Tales #197-198. Check your local comic shop now for back issues!

I’ve got some good news and bad news, Steve, but to find out what those are, well… You’ll have to keep reading!

All I can say right now is that the relationship between monster hunters is bound to be a little unusual. Besides, who’s to say why Hannibal joined the Secret Society in the first place? Only time will tell for sure.

Don’t forget, Linda, that the White Witch trained for years at the doctor’s side. She was bound to change through that experience, and indeed it appears she’s picked up more then a few of Xavier’s bad habits. This time, however, she may have just crossed the line.

I don’t want to let any cats out of the bag (though it’s gotta be hot in there!), but let’s just say this: You’re definitely going to want to get your hands on the Tales of Strangefate Giant-Sized Special ASAP. You won’t be disappointed!

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