"So we're staying?" Hank said. He watched Jan unpack, his expression bemused. She glanced at him over her shoulder.

"For now at least. Clint and the others are moving to San Francisco for the foreseeable future and Tony said we were free to stay here as long as we wanted."

"Nice of him."

"Yeah." Jan was silent for a minute, then she turned and took Hank's hand in hers. "Hank."

"Jan."

"How close?"

"What?"

"How close is it to being finished?"

"What?" Hank pulled his hand loose and he took a hesitant step back. Jan frowned, watching her ex-husband tense. That old fight or flight reflex kicking in. She felt herself tensing up in reply and forced herself to calm down. This wasn't a fight. Wasn't going to be a fight. Just a talk. She sat on the edge of the bed, hands flat, supporting her. Legs crossed.

"The thing in your lab. How close is it to being finished?"

"What thing in my lab?"

"Ultron. Hank, I love you more than anyone should love her ex-husband. But you are a horrible liar. Everybody knows what you're doing-"

"Well, I haven't exactly tried to hide it, have I?" Hank said softly. Jan blinked.

"No, I suppose not."

"Jan. I-" Hank closed his eyes, trying to come up with the words. He sighed, all the tension oozing out of him. "Please. Just trust me."

"It's Ultron, Hank. You and he don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to each other."

"Granted. But this isn't the same Ultron. Or at least it won't be."

"How can you know that?"

"Simple. I'm building his brain from scratch," Hank said simply. Jan stared at him for a second, then burst out laughing. Hank raised his eyebrows. "What? What did I say?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all," Jan said. She grabbed Hank's hand in hers and held it tightly. "I love you."

"I know. And I've never been more grateful for anything in my life." Hank pulled her to him, enclosing her slender form in his arms. And in his lab, the completed form of Ultron trembled with the first stirrings of what some might have called...

...Life.

MARVEL 2000 PRESENTS...

"FORK, SAY HELLO TO ROAD"

Written by Josh Reynolds

"Okay. I'll admit it. Very nice."

"Well, we couldn't very well have a Serpent Sled sitting up here in plain sight could we? And wipe your feet," Zelda DuBois, formerly known as Princess Python, said, glaring at Hawkeye as she headed for the door off the roof. Hawkeye looked down at his feet then over his shoulder at Spider-Woman, Darkhawk and the eponymous Doctor Druid. A more motley bunch he didn't know of. Two super heroes, one rookie and one zombie. Oh, and Zelda, too, of course.

"You heard the woman, gang. Wipe your feet."

"Thank you," Zelda replied primly. She opened the door to the battered brownstone and let it swing open. "After you."

"Defenses?"

"Offline. Thanks to me," Zelda said, eyebrow arched. "Wouldn't do to have my new best friends fried, would it?"

"My heart weeps with gratitude." Hawkeye mock-bowed. "Still, you first, Zelda."

"If I must." She turned and flounced through the door. The Avengers followed more slowly. Zelda led them down the stairs to the bottom floor where she opened a door and revealed a tidy looking sitting area. Spider-Woman whistled.

"This place looks like an issue of Better Homes & Gardens exploded."

"Seth always had taste. And a woman's touch doesn't hurt." Zelda looked around. The brownstone was a simple affair, at least on the surface. Zelda collapsed on a couch, arms spread and leaned her head back, blowing strands of crimson out of her face. "Don't mess anything up or we'll lose the deductible."

"Who's we? The Serpent Society? Or the Circus of Crime?" Darkhawk said, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe. "Either wouldn't surprise me right now."

"We is us. At least until the Society and Dracula are taken down," Hawkeye interjected. He flopped down on the couch beside Zelda and grinned. "We needed a new base, closer to the trouble. Zelda here gives us access to these fancy digs here-"

"One of the Society's old bases," Zelda said.

"-For our new base. Or temporary base. At least until things cool down here. And in return, we keep her safe and sound," Hawkeye finished. "Everybody caught up?"

"We were all at the meeting, Hawky." Spider-Woman said.

"Yeah, I know. But repeating it helps keep me organized." Hawkeye looked at Druid. "Doc?"

"Yes, Clint."

"You ready to get to work?"

"Certainly. I'll need Chris' help however if I am to discover the cause behind Dracula's sudden revival."

"Mine?" Darkhawk said, sounding surprised. Druid smiled as well as he was able, his gray, ravaged skin splitting and stretching slightly at the expression.

"Yes, my boy. And I'll need a large room. Empty. Preferably no carpet."

Zelda replied with an upturned finger, making a gesture at the ceiling. "We got three floors. Top one is empty; used to be a lab. Now it's just dead space."

"How appropriate." Druid gestured towards the stairs. "Come Christopher. We have much to do."

Hawkeye watched them head for the stairs and then looked back at Spider-Woman. "Jess, you feel up to patrol? See if we spot any of our smelly playmates from the other night?"

"Why not? Beats sitting around waiting for something to happen."

"And what about me?" Zelda said, sitting up, eyes wide. "Are you just going to leave me here with the kid and the zombie?"

"Looks that way, don't it?" Hawkeye grinned at her. He glanced at Spider-Woman. "Ready Jess?"

"Hell yeah," she said, already sliding open a window.

Soon both of them were running across rooftops. Jessica easily outpaced Hawkeye, her enhanced reflexes and strength propelling her along more swiftly than any human, no matter how well trained, could match.

It was good to be moving again. Not fighting, just moving.

She had been semi-retired for a few months, moving around Europe, trying to get back in touch with her roots. The dreams had started around then. Not nightmares really, more like memories she hadn't actually experienced. Memories of herself as a nineteenth century adventuress. Fighting criminals and monsters with ladylike aplomb. The Mysterious Spider-Woman. She smiled, but it quickly faded.

The vacation hadn't lasted long though. She'd caught a BBC report on Equinox's rampage and hopped the first plane back to Cali. San Francisco was her town and she would be damned if some messed up freak was going to destroy it. She luxuriated in the feel of her muscles as she leapt the intervening gap between buildings. Landing smoothly, she was up and moving again before the impact of landing even registered. She leapt, hitting a chimney, bouncing off to land on a ledge and from there was cutting through the air to land in a crouch on a peaked roof. Waiting for Hawkeye to catch up, she took the time to look out over San Francisco.

It had been beautiful once. Parts of it still were. Would be again, too.

At least most of the fires were out. But there was still a smell on the air. A rusty smell. Like old-

Something hissed below her.

Drew looked down into a mouth full of gleaming fangs. Fish-belly hued hands darted towards her throat as a dark shape scrambled up the wall.

"I must feed!" a guttural voice roared. Drew fell backwards as the creature's claws snagged at her throat. Her own hands were moving though and a crackling burst of energy lashed out, catching the creature full in the face. It screamed and rolled backwards, towards the edge of the roof, clawing at its smoking flesh. A sense of deja vu washed over her as she flipped upright to face her attacker.

Morbius, the Living Vampire rolled to his feet, old wounds covering his face and bare forearms in black scabs and red scars. He looked like a car wreck and smoke from her blast wreathed his distorted features. His fangs clicked together as he came at her again. Spider-Woman vaulted over him, her hands wrapping around his greasy haired skull and driving Morbius' face into the rooftop. He was up an instant later, whirling inhumanly fast, his clawed fingers slicing through her back. She swallowed a scream and turned, her fist cracking him in the jaw. Morbius stumbled back and she pressed her advantage, planting blow after blow into his face and gut.

"I don't know what the hell you're doing here, Doctor Morbius, but I'm pretty sure I'd be a lot happier if you were unconscious!" she grunted, spinning to launch a kick into his abdomen. Morbius grabbed her leg and yanked her towards him. She fell, off balance, slamming hard into the roof and Morbius leapt atop her, a victorious snarl rippling across his features. She brought her feet up just in time, catching him in the stomach. With a burst of strength she hurled him backwards into the air.

At that same moment an arrow hissed through the air and caught Morbius in the back, the tip appearing out of the center of his breast with an ugly wet sound. He collapsed soundlessly onto the roof and lay still. Hawkeye appeared at the edge of the roof, another arrow notched and ready to fly.

"You okay, Jess?"

"Fine and dandy. Other than almost getting eaten, I mean," she said, crouching over Morbius' form. "What the hell is he doing here though?"

"Well offhand, I'd guess where there's one vampire, there're others."

"Yeah, but Morbius isn't a regular vampire. Ain't no magic creeping through those ugly veins," Drew said, rolling the inert form of the vampire over and feeling the arrowhead. "Right through the heart."

"Don't feel too bad. His eyes are moving." Hawkeye gestured with an arrow at Morbius' face. Spider-Woman shook her head.

"He looks like he's been worked over. Bad, too. Normally he's a talker. He was stone silent this time."

"Poor bastard." Hawkeye squatted. "I met him once before. When he was human. It didn't last apparently." He looked up, eyes narrowed. "Sun's gonna be coming up in an hour or so. We need to get him somewhere dark."

"We're not turning him over to the authorities?"

"What authorities? Police are getting run in circles and the inmates are running the asylum. Besides, Fangs here might have some answers about what's going on." Hawkeye looked towards the east where the sky was already growing lighter. "Let's head back. See if Druid's had any progress."

The room was as barren as DuBois had promised. Darkhawk watched the corpse of Anthony Luddgate Druid stand stock-still in the center of the room, arms outstretched, head bowed, eyes closed. Chris Powell had seen a lot in the few short years since he'd assumed the mantle of Darkhawk. Aliens, alternate realities, and now zombies and vampires. But this was still a bit much to take in. The senses of his alien body were screaming at him that something was happening all around him. There was a vague sense of pressure building up in the room and had been for the past few minutes.

"Christopher?" Druid said suddenly, his voice a rasping croak. Darkhawk snapped alert.

"Yeah, Doc?"

"I need you to draw a pentagram around me while I focus my concentration. Can you do that?"

"Yeah, but with what?" Darkhawk looked around. "I don't see any art supplies around here anywhere."

"Your gem, Christopher. How well can you control the darkforce energies within it?"

"Pretty well, I think."

"As I'd hoped. All you have to do is see the pentagram in your mind...visualize it and hold it in place, no matter what should occur."

"I-yeah. Yeah okay." Darkhawk did as Druid asked and his gem pulsed once, brightly. Strands of black energy spread from the gem on his chest, encircling Druid and coming together to form a flickering sigil on the floor. Druid brought his hands together and Darkhawk staggered as black flames rose from the pentagram.

He clutched at the gemstone, feeling as if something were being sucked from him. The pentagram flared brighter and strange syllables spilled from Druid's blistered lips. The air in the room seemed to twist and writhe like a captive animal. Strange sounds thundered in Darkhawk's mind as he felt himself sinking to his knees, suddenly weakened.

"Chris! You must stay strong! Please!" Druid barked. The undead mystic turned back to the black flames crackling around him. A deeper color was forming in the center of the flames, as if someone, somewhere, were opening a door. Which was, in a sense, what was happening.

There were only a few ways to find the information he sought. One was to attempt to bind Dracula and force him to disclose what he knew. That was unfortunately not an option at this time. His own fault really. If he had been faster...no matter. That left only two. Bind and interrogate the Dark Dwarf, Chthon's proxy on Earth or go straight to the source as it were, and confront the most highly placed of Chthon's servants...the N'garai. The children of Chthon.

Anthony Druid had never been a fan of proxies. And subtlety was for the living.

With the power that resided in Darkhawk's gem, combined with his own magics, Anthony Druid cracked the skin of the world and opened a door into Hell.

A rush of voices filled the air, harsh things, like the cawing of crows or the screams of infants and a smell of rotting meat and mossy bone rose up from the floor. For the first time since his return to the vale of tears, Druid was glad he was dead. The sounds were dulled, the stink invisible to his deadened senses.

Darkhawk however wasn't faring so well. He was kneeling on the floor, clawing at his throat. Cracks appeared in the floor, growing and spreading, a sickly hell-light rising up, filling the room. A scaly purple talon, a few steps to the left of human, speared out of the closest crack to Darkhawk and seized him by his helmet. Druid whirled, a curse on his lips as one of the N'garai squeezed into reality, gripping Darkhawk's limp form like a rag-doll. The creature was a terrifying blend of insect and reptile, with inhuman savagery stamped on its angular form. It hissed at Druid and he stumbled as he felt the doorway he'd been creating suddenly bulged. Druid turned back, cursing his lack of concentration as the demon's brethren tried to force their way through, dozens of clawed hands reaching, groping for Druid's rotted robes.

"Isn't this quite the pickle?" a high-pitched voice shrilled with laughter. The Dark Dwarf strode out of the flickering shadows, dressed in his undertaker's suit, black hair greased back and his white, white teeth showing in a maniacal grin. "You should have left well enough alone, Anthony. Shouldn't have tried to thrust your raggle-taggle soul between the boss and his dominion. But since you insist..." the Dwarf waved an idle, pudgy hand. "Well, I guess we'll have to oblige."

And Anthony Druid screamed for the first time since his death as the hordes of Chthon burst through the door he had created and thundered towards him.

"Hello, Robert," the man in the dapper suit said. He was Asian, young and smug-looking. It was the smugness that got under Robert Barlowe's skin. Made him angry. He clenched his gloved fists in his coat pockets, eyes narrowing.

"I'm here. Like you asked. Now what do you got to say?"

"Robert Barlowe. AKA Shatterfist. You once fought Thor, didn't you? And you were a Master of Evil for a brief time. And after that, you fall off the grid," the man said, as if Barlowe hadn't spoken. "You went to Madripoor. Which is where you came to the attention of my master. You are a brute, Barlowe. And worse, you displayed some intelligence in your legal employment as an engineer. But now you are an ambulatory weapon. A blunt instrument, useful only for force."

"I didn't come here to be insulted!" Shatterfist stood, a snarl etched on his features.

"No. You came here for a meal, like the rest of these wretched creatures." The man gestured at the line of shabby people waiting on whatever meals the Red Cross were doling out from their donation stores. The night wind rippled the ceiling of the drab green tent that stood from one end of the street to the other and people huddled together. Families mostly, but a few odd loners. The detritus of San Francisco. Things were improving, but only slowly.

"You haven't worked in several months, Barlowe. But in the ruination of San Francisco, my master has seen opportunity. And you can be useful to him in the pursuit of that opportunity. He will need weapons like you in the very near future. Like my friend Slate here." The man gestured to the hulking figure in the trenchcoat standing behind him. The brute's skin was the color of dark clouds and his eyes glimmered red beneath heavy lids.

"'Sup?" Slate grunted. Shatterfist shook his head, long brown hair falling over his eyes.

"How much?"

"How much what?"

"How much am I getting paid?"

"You misunderstand, Robert. This isn't a request. My master does not make requests of such as you. He merely takes what he wants," the man said silkily. He held up a thin strip of paper with squiggly black lines drawn on it. With a whisper of breath, he released he paper and blew it gently towards Shatterfist, who watched in bafflement. The paper twisted in the air between them for a moment before beginning to glow like a tiny star and suddenly it flared and arrowed towards the criminal. Shatterfist stumbled up from his seat with a cry as the paper touched his forehead, sizzled and sank into his skull without a trace.

Shatterfist screamed.

His scream was echoed by several people as the top of the tent was suddenly shredded from above and a horde of dead men dropped in among the living, red eyes gleaming, fangs flashing. The dapper man raised an eyebrow and snapped his fingers.

"Slate. Let us go. My master wants no confrontation with these filthy creatures just yet."

"Don't have ta tell me twice." Slate pointed at Shatterfist, who was stumbling away, into the confusion. "What about him?"

"Leave him. If he survives, we will reclaim him."

Shatterfist stumbled to his knees amidst the carnage taking place as the vampires tore into the helpless refugees. A clawed hand wrapped itself in his hair, yanking his head back. But before the hissing ghoul could sink yellowed fangs in the dazed super-villain's throat, a thick cigar was buried in the creature's eye, driven by the force of a feathered hand. The vampire stumbled away, shrieking as Shatterfist stared up at his rescuer.

"Y-you're a duck."

"So people tell me. Now are you just gonna lay there, or are you gonna help me kick these blood-suckers in the teeth?" Howard the Duck said harshly, stuffing his still lit stogie back into his beak.

TO BE CONTINUED...  

Next Issue: Howard the Duck! Aquarian! The N'garai! Vampires! And more...be here in thirty for, 'NEIGHBORS AND OTHER ANNOYANCES'!