Avengers West Coast # 14

Los Angeles , California

Iron Man couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. Standing in the living room of Marlo Jones, he could do nothing but watch as the young woman attempted to stifle her tears. He'd come to see the woman in hopes of finding out information on the whereabouts of her husband, Rick Jones. Rick was an Honorary Avenger, and half of the symbiotic partnership he shared with Iron Man's current teammate, Captain Marvel. Rick hadn't been seen in months, and Marvel had been less than forthcoming with information.

Unfortunately, Marlo had no answers for the iron-clad hero. Instead, she had looked to him for assistance in finding her missing husband. “Mrs. Jones,” he said, attempting to reignite the conversation, “is there anything else – anything at all – that you can think of that might provide a clue as to what's happened to Rick?”

Wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt, the redhead tried to collect her thoughts. “Rick did mention something,” she stated, “but I didn't really pay much attention to what he told me about Genis. I felt better not knowing sometimes, y'know? Right before they disappeared, Rick said that Genis had a talk with some alien Supreme thing, and that he'd been acting strange ever since.”

Stark's eyes narrowed beneath his helmet. “The Supreme Intelligence?”

“That might've been it,” she answered with a shake of her head, “I'm not real sure.”

Before Iron Man could question further, he was interrupted by a slight buzzing noise in his ear. “Excuse me, Marlo,” he said, raising one hand to the side of his helmet, “I've an Avengers Priority call coming through.” Concentrating on the incoming communiqué, he switched on his own transmitter and answered. “This is Iron Man, what do you need?”

He listened carefully as his teammate, Darkhawk, explained the situation to him. “I'm in L.A. ,” he said, turning away from his host as she stood from the couch, “I'll get to San Francisco as quick as my bootjets will carry me. Iron Man out.”

“Duty calls?” Marlo asked with a faint smile, walking with the Avenger as he moved toward the door.

“I'm afraid so,” he replied, “but you have my word, Ms. Jones. We'll find out what happened to Rick.” He paused his statement as he turned the knob, swinging the door open wide. “Captain Marvel and I are going to have a nice, long...”

He was going to say “chat”, but the words died in his throat as he looked outside. Marlo gasped loudly, echoing the armored hero's expression. Hovering approximately six feet or so from the ground, his arms folded across his chest and a scowl set on his face, was Genis-Vell...Captain Marvel.

“Going behind people's backs, digging up dirt on them,” the Kree man said venomously, “is that how the Avengers treat their friends now?”

“Captain,” Iron Man answered hesitantly, “I'm worried about Rick – about you – and that's the end of it. If you need our help, all you have to do is ask.”

“I tried that,” Genis yelled, his body now pulsing with cosmic energy, “and nobody would listen! I came to see you, Marlo...to tell you everything that happened, to explain how badly I screwed up. But now I see you here with him, a man that's done nothing but distrust me from the beginning!”

“I want my husband back!” Marlo shouted from behind Iron Man, instinctively standing behind the Avenger for protection.

“Calm down, Genis,” Iron Man advised, taking a step forward, “we're all friends here...”

“Liar!” Marvel screamed, a blast of photonic energy erupting from the Nega Band on his right wrist. The burst of energy hit Iron Man squarely in the chest, the resulting impact and explosion sending the Avenger careening backward into the Jones' home, crashing through walls as he flew through the air. Marlo, who had been standing directly behind him, was knocked unconscious from the force of the metal armor that hit her, knocking her to the side like a rag doll.

Flying into the air, Captain Marvel took an aerial view of the home...and blasted again with the energy produced by his Nega Bands. The blast hit the roof of the home and exploded outward, leaving only a caved in shell of broken glass and wooden wreckage. With one last, hardened look at the destruction he had wrought, Genis scowled again.

He flew into the air, headed for space...and didn't take another look back.

AVENGERS WEST COAST # 14

“Thermodynamic”
Part Two of Three
Written by Chris Munn

San Francisco , California

“Oh my god,” Priscilla Lyons choked out, holding her hand over her mouth as she fought back tears, “what happened to the city?”

From the Quinjet that soared through the smoke-filled sky, three Avengers could only look on in shock and horror at the devastation leveled upon the city of San Francisco . The city had been caught in an instantaneous flash fire, turning the area into a giant funeral pyre. Vagabond, trying to quell her emotions as she piloted the jet, took at look at her teammates. While Darkhawk's expression was hidden beneath the black and silver helmet of his cyborg form, the face of the Two-Gun Kid echoed her own.

Whatever had caused the fires had happened nearly an hour ago, immediately forcing California into a state of national emergency. The gravity of the situation had hit the three heroes the moment they were contacted by the governor. Not only was the death toll unknown, but a group of fellow Avengers had been visiting the city earlier that day…and hadn't been heard from in hours.

“Where do we even start?” Two-Gun asked, pulling his brown Stetson hat over his eyes. Darkhawk looked over at his friend, noticing the welling of tears in the corners of his eyes.

“We have to find Hawkeye and the rest,” Darkhawk answered, his voice the usual hollow monotone that accompanied his alternate hero body, “because let's face it, the three of us can't do jack against something like this.”

“Bull!” Vagabond shouted as she brought the Quinjet to a sudden stop, tossing the two men forward from the momentum. Leaving the plane in a hover position in the sky, Priscilla jumped from her seat and ran toward the exit hatch without saying a word. Attaching a winch cable to her outfit, the redhead opened the hatch with determination in her expression.

And when the hatch was open, she jumped out into the open air.

He couldn't believe he'd lost him. Cursing to himself, he refused to believe that he could have followed the villain Equinox all the way from Brooklyn to San Francisco , to the doorstep of Henry Pym, and then lost the trail. He'd retired to his motel room to collect his thoughts before returning to his search.

And that's when a wave of flame blew his windows in and caught nearly every piece of furniture afire.

After several frantic slaps on his body to smother the small patches of fire, he regained his composure. Quickly donning his pure white outfit, he took off into the night, helping survivors as he moved through the city. The destruction worsened as he moved deeper into San Francisco , and he took that as a sign that he was nearing his target.

He'd followed Equinox all the way across the country, and the Moon Knight was determined to finish his mission of vengeance.

Standing atop the highest hill in the park, Terrence Sorenson looked stoically over the situation he had brought to fruition. To his left was a city on fire while to his left was a city bathed in ice, and if he felt remorse for his actions, his expression refused to acknowledge it. His only daughter, Janet, who he loved more than life itself, had been taken from him. She'd been murdered by those who had refused to help her, struck down because of the mutant genetics that had made up her body.

So the city of San Francisco had been judged and executed by his hand. He had hardly questioned the strange voice in the back of his mind that had goaded him to action. The voice had aided him in his time of need, and that was all he deemed to be important.

The city burns , the voice said, almost answering his thoughts, and the city writhes in ice. I commend you, Equinox. You have taken righteous retribution against the humans.

“As long as I live and breathe,” Equinox shouted, answering the voice by announcing his words to the heavens, “this city shall never be free! Let it burn! Let it freeze! Let them all know the grief of the Thermodynamic Man!”

My minions are arriving even as we speak, my friend , the voice said in return, and we shall back up your words with force. The city is ours.

Sorenson fought to suppress the smirk that made its way upon his face.

“Yes…it is , isn't it?”

Henry Pym's eyes fluttered open as he fought to regain consciousness. He'd been in his lab, pondering over the strange event that had happened previously in the day, searching his memory for the identity of the man who had come to his home claiming to have once wronged him. The man's daughter, a mutant, had died on Pym's lawn. The police had came, long after the stranger had disappeared into the city, and Henry could tell how upset they were when he was unable to give any information.

The lab, nestled beneath his San Francisco home, had been designed to California specifics...meaning it was earthquake proof, the walls and foundation lined with shock absorbers. To his surprise, it wasn't an earthquake that hit, but a short circuiting of every electrical device in his laboratory. The resultant electrical explosion had engulfed the whole of the room, sending the scientist headlong into unconsciousness. As he finally came back to reality, Hank's first thoughts were on the why and how of the situation.

And those thoughts were immediately interrupted by the pain in his legs. He looked down, his body flat against his back on the ground, and saw the huge bank of machinery that had fallen atop him. Panic set in for the briefest of moments, but Pym quickly fell into the battle honed instincts that had made him a founding Avenger. Placing his fingers softly against the blackened steel, his body released the Pym Particles that suffused his totality...and the machinery shrunk . Whereas before he had felt the crushing weight of the impossibly heavy console, his legs now knew freedom. With a kick of his right leg, the miniscule computer bank was flung to the side.

“No damage done,” Henry muttered, thanking the God that he didn't believe in that he had not been crippled. With a forlorn sigh, the scientist surveyed the irreparable damage done to his laboratory. He knew, in his heart of hearts, that the destruction had not been caused by something natural. A person had been responsible, as always, and he hated the thought of what he knew he had to do next.

Treading lightly over the debris scattered across the floor, Pym slowly made his way to the solid steel cabinet that had miraculously been left untouched by the destructive force. Steeling his resolve, he threw open the cabinet doors, revealing a stockpile of advanced weaponry. It only took him a few moments to shrink the arsenal down, his pockets lined with every piece of defensive and offensive machinery conceivable.

Stocked with his tools, Henry Pym turned toward the stairwell that would lead him to the surface. He hated it more than anything else, but when duty called he knew he couldn't turn away.

It was time for the hero to rise again.

Vagabond crashed through the glass, the smoke-filled night air hitting her with almost as much force as the window. She hadn't had much time to think over her plan, and now – as she fell to the ground from the seventh story of a blazing apartment building with two small children cradled under her arms – she realized that perhaps she'd made a rash decision after all. The ground rushed toward her as she fell, and through it all she wished that the two children in her arms would just stop screaming.

“Hey babe, you going my way?” Vagabond found herself in the arms of another with that question, her ebon-clad teammate Darkhawk grabbing onto her and the children at the last moment. His grappling claw attached to a nearby flagpole, Darkhawk and the others swung skyward in an arc, and Priscilla felt a wave of nausea overcoming her from the jerking motion of the claw disengaging.

Landing atop an adjacent, lower building, Christopher Powell released his grasp on his comrade, who in turn released her hold on the two children she'd rescued. “This building's on fire, too,” Vagabond stated as she stopped the children from running away, “hell, all the buildings are on fire.”

“Grab onto Uncle Darkhawk, kids,” the fearsome Avenger said, his mere presence scaring the kids even more, “and I'll get you down to your parents.” Scooping up the children, despite their protests, Powell's glider wings snapped in position. Jumping from the edge of the building, Darkhawk and passengers glided down to the ground like a feather, leaving Vagabond alone on the burning roof.

“Thanks a lot, Chris,” she muttered, feelings of abandonment entering her mind. The thoughts were interrupted by the signature sound of a Quinjet overhead, prompting her to look up. A ladder fell down to her, and she eagerly climbed aboard.

“You scared the tarnation outta us, darlin',” the Two-Gun Kid said as he helped her aboard, the Quinjet left in hovering auto-pilot mode, “jumpin' out this plane like you did.”

“Did it on impulse,” Priscilla Lyons answered, taking a seat near the jet's exit hatch, “but yeah, I'm sorry. Teach me to think before I leap, huh?”

“Don't apologize, gal,” the Kid answered with a wink of his eye, “you saved a couple a young-un's, didn't you?”

“Hey guys, if you don't mind,” Darkhawk's voice buzzed through the Quinjet's communicator, “could you get down here?”

“What's up, ‘Hawk?” Two-Gun asked in reply, receiving a worried look from the girl beside him.

“Just...get down here!” was the frantic answer.

Darkhawk couldn't believe his eyes. After setting the young children to the ground, where they had eagerly ran to their parents, he caught sight of something truly terrifying. Now, being a superhero meant you saw some strange sights in your journeys, and Chris had seen his fair share. But the army of men that seemed to break free from the earth itself...men that seemed to be formed of the very rock from which they emerged...men that were afire with molten lava cascading down their bodies...made him realize that things could always get weirder.

“You people get back!” Darkhawk ordered the crowd behind him as he began to cautiously step forward. The silent stone men moved forward slowly, the ground melting under their feet with each footstep they made. More and more of the creatures emerged from the ground, breaking through the concrete and pavement all around the solo Avenger. Within moments, the monsters had Darkhawk surrounded, and were closing in on him with slow, methodical steps.

Deciding that snappy banter and witty one-liners would be wasted on his silent opponents, the ebon avenger decided to let his actions speak more than words ever could. A burst of black energy erupted from the diamond that was imbedded in his chest, and the force struck a grouping of the monsters. Instead of simply driving them back, as he intended, he gasped when he saw the fiery creatures shatter into pieces upon the energy's impact.

“What the hell are these critters?” Two-Gun asked as he and Vagabond touched the Quinjet down onto the empty street a few yards down from their teammate.

“Beats me, Matt,” she answered, following the Kid on his way out of the jet, “but I have an even better question. If Darkhawk can't stop these things, what good can we do?”

“Guys, help!” Darkhawk yelled as the creatures swarmed over him, their flaming hands burning his cyborg body as they grabbed onto him, pulling him down to the ground. Another fissure opened below the fighting Avenger, with more of the monsters emerging beneath his feet. Half a dozen hands grabbed at his legs, pulling him with inhuman strength into the ground. There was nothing his friends could do to help him, he realized, after seeing several of Two-Gun's bullets bounce off the rock monsters...he was going to die, and nothing could help him.

“Get down, Avengers!” a voice shouted from above the heroes, prompting Vagabond and Two-Gun to turn their heads in surprise. Standing atop a building was a man in a red jumpsuit...a man that rested a type of rocket launcher on his shoulder. A second later, the weapon was activated and a blast of fire signaled the release of a rocket that zoomed toward the periled Darkhawk and the mass of monsters that had piled on top of him.

The other two Avengers watched with gaping mouths as the missile struck the mass of molten men, exploding not in fire and concussion but instead with white foam. The foam burst across the rocky skin of the creatures, solidifying around them and effectively freezing them in place. “Darkhawk!” Vagabond shouted as she ran toward the now-statue-like figures, disbelieving that their rescuer would so wantonly disregard the life of their friend.

“You're a damn fool!” Two-Gun shouted as the man made his way down the fire escape. His pistols were drawn in a defensive stance as the newcomer approached him, but the illumination of the flames against the man's face made the battle-hardened cowboy pull his guns back into the air as quick as he could. “You...you're...”

“Henry Pym, at your service,” the former Avenger greeted, the bazooka shrinking into his palm as he approached, “glad to see I got here in time. You newer Avengers obviously haven't fought Lava Men before.”

“You killed Darkhawk!” Vagabond accused as she charged at Pym, caring not a bit about his status as a legendary hero. Before she could reach him, however, a blast of energy erupted from beneath the ground that sat between the two, causing her to jump back in surprise. Slowly, a clawed hand emerged from the smoldering crater, and a blackened and burned figure pulled himself onto the street.

“That,” Darkhawk said as he weakly stood to his feet, his journey beneath the city street having been an incredible ordeal, “was not fun.”

“Glad to see my faith in your abilities wasn't unfounded,” Pym commented to the startled and confused neophyte Avengers, “though I hate to say that the power level combined by the three of you doesn't amount to much against those things. Where are the other Avengers?”

The other Avengers exchanged looks of annoyance, prompting Darkhawk to simply shrug his shoulders as a silent reply.

Pym sighed heavily. “Where are Hawkeye and Iron Man,” he again asked, “and where is my wife?”

I should be used to seeing the unbelievable, the Moon Knight thought, but this...

He had followed the fiery destruction, helping the many injured San Franciscans along the way, making his way toward the center of the city. If he'd had any doubt of the involvement of the Thermodynamic Man, the sight before him silenced the thought. He stood straddling a line of demarcation, one foot in a charred, ashen firestorm and the other in a frozen wasteland of ice and cold.

The entrance to a park, once vibrant with green life, yawned before him, and over the din of catastrophe the Moon Knight could hear the frantic screams of the man responsible. Vengeance would be served, for all the innocent victims of a madman's rage. Marc Spector took a confident stride toward the park entrance...

...but was grabbed by the shoulders before his step was completed. Lifted high into the air, the Fist of Khonshu flailed madly in an attempt to dislodge his attacker's grip. In return, the massive creature behind him threw its arms to the side, tossing the Knight from the park entrance into the side of a flash-frozen automobile some twenty feet away.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Spector leered from under his white hood. The creature, ape-like in appearance with a coating of snow-white fur, lumbered toward him, snarling through a fanged, foaming mouth. “Abominable snowmen?” Moon Knight asked rhetorically, standing from the pile of broken ice beneath him.

“Snowmen?” the creature bellowed in reply, surprising the Knight with its ability of speech. “The Cold People are no mere snowmen!” The monster punctuated its statement by slamming its fists on the ground, causing tremors to issue forth from the impact point.

“Whatever,” Marc commented as he leapt into the air, escaping the seismic attack. In a fluid, blur of a motion, the servant of Khonshu flung his arm in a wide arc, releasing five sharpened crescent moon shurikens at the monster. The snow-beast howled in rage as the shurikens dug deep into its flesh, but the weapons failed to halt its advance.

Landing on the ground in a crouch, the Moon Knight reached to the pouch that was secured on his back, behind his cape. A pair of steel nunchaku emerged in his hand, accompanied by a scowl that formed faintly beneath his mask. Snarling, the beast lunged toward the smaller hero, claws and fangs eager to dig into human flesh. Almost faster than the eye could follow, Moon Knight again leapt into the air, turning his midsection on his downward fall...and landed square on the back of the massive creature. While the cold dweller bucked like a bull, desperate to dislodge its passenger, the servant of Khonshu brought the tightly gripped nunchaku to action. He wrapped the weapon's chain across the throat of the monster, and then began to choke the life out of it. After several long, strenuous moments, the beast fell to the ground...whether it was dead or just unconscious, the Knight cared not. Taking a moment to catch his breath, the vigilante looked once more at the entrance to the park where Equinox was residing. He took a step forward...but the growls coming from behind him stopped him in his tracks.

Moon Knight turned his head slowly, a quiet curse muttered on his breath upon seeing at least a dozen more creatures like the one he'd just defeated. The one in the lead leaned forward, his silver and black markings making him the only unique individual among the monsters' ranks.

“I am Ternak of the Cold People,” the leader stated, “and you are the first sport we have found in this unholy place.”

He awakened to a blink of light flashing in his cornea, the telltale of his on board diagnostic screen doing its best to get its owner's attention. As his eyes slowly fluttered open, Anthony Stark moaned, his voice echoing throughout the metal helmet that rested atop his head. The last thing he remembered was Genis-Vell hovering over him, and then the blast of energy from the alien warrior's hands.

[Full System Scan Complete: Power Reboot Successful]

Toggling his onboard CPU with his chin, Iron Man finally realized what had happened to him. Shifting his weight, he felt the pressure of the tons of debris that had fallen on top of him, the remains of Marlo Jones' house having buried him alive after Captain Marvel's destructive tantrum. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Stark twisted his hands in the compressed area, placing his palms up.

“Hope there's no body in the way,” he muttered to himself before activating his repulsor blasts, blowing the debris away from him. His bootjets activated immediately after, carrying him up from the crater in which he'd been trapped. After reaching the open sky, he saw that the street in front of the Jones' home had become crowded with police, firefighters, and emergency workers. Ignoring the audible gasps of awe that came from the mouths of most watching, he immediately locked onto Marlo, who was sitting on the back of an open ambulance.

“Mrs. Jones,” he greeted as he touched down with a blast of air on the cracked pavement, “are you okay?”

“I fell into the yard,” Marlo answered, obviously shaken by what she'd experienced, “but you fell in the basement when the house collapsed. They'd been trying to dig you out, but I guess we really should've have worried, huh?”

Noting that the sun had long set, blanketing the street with darkness broken only by the flashing lights of police cruisers, Stark placed a hand to his helmet's temple. “How long have I been out?” he asked.

“About three hours,” the red-haired woman replied.

“There was an Avenger emergency in San Francisco ,” Iron Man stated, “and now I can't raise them on their communicators...”

“There was a natural disaster of some kind in San Francisco ,” a nearby EMS worker said, having overheard Iron Man's statement, “they're not letting anyone into the city.”

“I have to go, Marlo,” Tony admitted as his bootjets flared to action, “but I'll be in touch as soon as I possibly can. I promise.”

With a sad wave of her hand, Marlo Jones bid the Golden Avenger goodbye, watching him as he blasted into the night sky. Her eyes then drifted back to the destroyed building she'd called him, her expression twisting to one of disgust. “I hate you, Rick Jones,” she whispered, “why do you have to do this to me?”

“This is insanity,” Vagabond commented as she stared out the windshield of the Quinjet. The city of San Francisco was a firestorm, completely burned down to the Earth from which it had sprung. Finally dislodging her gaze at the devastation, Priscilla looked back over her shoulder at the living legend that had joined them aboard their craft. She'd heard stories of Henry Pym from the older Avengers, and all of them had spoken of the man in hushed awe and reminiscent sadness. Pym had known nothing but tragedy throughout his life, but still he had managed to persevere. Narrowing her eyes, Vagabond could only sigh...if that was the great Hank Pym, she was far from impressed.

“Judging by the fact that the blaze gets worse the deeper we go,” Pym commented aloud to Darkhawk, the only one of the three Avengers to remain in the back of the jet with the scientist, “the cause must be somewhere near the center of the city.”

“Makes sense,” Darkhawk replied, pointing his finger to a spot on the map laid across the small table between them, “and this park, while not equilaterally in the city's middle, would make a great place to plan and set off this...this bomb , or whatever we're dealing with.”

“I agree, Avenger,” Pym replied, rubbing his chin with his fingers as ideas rolled through his prodigious brain, “but this doesn't seem like a bomb. There was very little force to the explosion, but it's also not a natural wild fire. It spread too quickly...”

Turning back to the front of the plane, Priscilla grunted loudly. “Since when is Chris a tactician?”

“Don't look t' me like you're helpin' none,” the Two-Gun Kid responded, his concentration focused on flying the Quinjet through the smoke created by the blaze, “so don't you pay that boy no nevermind, gal. Let ‘em do the job, and don't be getting' all jealous just cuz you ain't the center of attention.”

Vagabond blinked her eyes rapidly, taken aback by her teammate's comments. “I don't...Matt, seriously...”

“Pris, you got one serious chip on your shoulder,” Two-Gun continued, “and I've been trying to help you, to get you to talk through whatever it is that's eatin' you alive. But you ain't gonna get no help if'n you don't let us through this wall you've built up around yourself. We're your friends, but we ain't gonna be for much longer if you keep treatin' us like this.”

Priscilla stuttered in an attempt to answer the Kid, her self-confidence shaken by what he'd said. Thankfully, her need for a response was brought to a halt by the interrupting Dr. Pym, who positioned himself directly over the cowboy pilot's shoulder. “Keep going straight,” he told Two-Gun, pointing out the windshield as he spoke, “I don't think you'll be able to miss where we're going.”

Our enemies are coming for you, Terrence , the voice told Equinox, but I am near to you now. You shall not be alone much longer.

The Thermodynamic Man nodded, not knowing if the mysterious stranger that had aided him would be able to see his movement. He had brought the city to its knees, made it pay for what its people had done to his daughter. Janet was dead, this he knew, but at least he had made her murderers suffer for their crime. Walking down from the blackened hill upon which he had stood, the grass alternately sizzled and snapped with each footstep.

Making his way toward the gate to the park, he immediately saw the scene of carnage that had apparently just ended. Lying strewn about the icy lawn to his right were monstrous beasts, animalistic creatures that had been brought low by the man standing across the way from him. The caped man in white, whose cowl extinguished any light that attempted to touch his face, stood definitely, his costume ripped and blood soaked.

“ Equinox !” the Moon Knight shouted, a golden ax stained with blood gripped tightly in his hand. “The Fist of Khonshu has come for vengeance!”

“Vengeance?” Terrence Sorenson asked in return, his fiery hand raising as he spoke. “I will show you the meaning of the word, hero!”

The Moon Knight leapt into the air, barely evading the stream of flame that erupted from Equinox's hand. The jump allowed the vigilante to gain much needed ground on his opponent, bringing him within striking distance with the axe. The Fist of Khonshu brought the weapon down in a furious strike, the force of which caused his hand to shake with tremors.

“Heh,” Equinox breathed as the Knight pulled back his weapon to find the blade of the axe broken into metal shards, having shattered against the villain's ice-coated right side. “Is that all you have?”

Spector immediately spun into a roundhouse kick, his boot catching fire as it grazed against the flaming abdomen of the man that had caused so much chaos with such relative ease. Knocked off balance, the Thermodynamic Man reached out with this fiery hand as he fell backward, catching hold of the Knight’s billowing cape. The cloth caught fire immediately, prompting Spector to unleash another furious kick to the villain’s abdomen.

The air rushed out of Equinox’s lungs as he hit the ground, but the force of the blow wasn’t enough to keep him from unleashing a blast of ice from his right hand. The stream of ice struck Moon Knight in the shoulder, spinning him like a top until he, too, hit the ground.

“Down, Moon Knight!” a voice bellowed from above, amplified by an external loud speaker. The Fist of Khonshu went into a diving roll away from the villain, barely evading the barrage of repulsor blasts that rained down from the flying Iron Man, just arriving on the scene of the battle.

“Good to see you, Avenger,” Spector commented as Stark landed a few feet away, his sensors still trained on the reeling Equinox.

“This guy’s all mine,” Iron Man ordered, “shouldn’t take more than a minute.”

From the smoke and flame, Equinox leapt with amazing speed, catching the armored Avenger in a fierce bear hug. “You couldn’t be more right, hero,” the villain agreed as he sent wave after wave of heat and cold across Iron Man’s armor. Stark’s sensors screamed in his ear, and as his power cells began to falter he found himself distressed.

“You’re small potatoes, Equinox,” Iron Man stated as he blasted himself free with the force of the Uni-Beam on his chest plate, “I want to know who’s really behind all of this.”

“Then turn and face him!” a voice, deep and guttural, announced from behind the Avenger. Iron Man turned, his vision filled with the giant barbarian that stood a few feet back. The creature was eight feet tall, easily, and was obviously possessed of immense strength. The Moon Knight struggled uselessly, held above the ground by his throat in the grasp of the monster’s massive hand.

“I am Grotesk,” the giant said, a wide grin revealing broken, yellowed teeth, “welcome to my new kingdom...”

To Be Continued…

Next Issue: “Thermodynamic” comes to it’s senses-shattering conclusion, as the Avengers are faced with Equinox, Grotesk, and the amassed army of Lava Men and Cold People! But where are Hawkeye, Warbird, Beast, and the Wasp?

Bibliography

- The Cold People made their first and only appearance in Fantastic Four # 145-146.

- Grotesk and the Lava Men last appeared in Thor # 481.

- Captain Marvel attempted to get help with his problem from Warbird in Avengers West Coast # 13, but was turned away.