San Francisco.

Controlled explosions collapsed Deviant tunnels all across the city, as Damage Control personnel oversaw the structural reinforcement of the surrounding streets.

Brinks Baxter, head of the California offices of Damage Control, watched as a crane hauled one of the tunneling devices the Deviants had used out of the way. A group of SHIELD operatives waited to check it over for booby-traps, then begin dismantling procedures.

“So,” Baxter said.

“Yeah,” Tony Stark-Iron-Man-said, arms crossed. He stood near Baxter, watching the procedure. “Stark Enterprises West will continue to pay for the repairs. SpectorCorp and Richmond Industries are also footing some of the bill.”

“That’ll keep the bean counters happy.”

“Seeing as you’re one of them,” Iron-Man said. “I should hope so.”

“Ha! Yeah,” Baxter turned and knocked his knuckles against Iron-Man’s shoulder. “Things have been set back about a year, providing we can make use of the substructural supports the Deviants installed.”

“SHIELD okayed that?” Iron-Man said, sounding surprised.

“I’m sure they’re installing the usual surprises.” Baxter sniffed. He looked at Iron-Man. “What about you?”

Iron-Man didn’t reply. Baxter sighed.

“I hear you guys are heading back to LA,” he said.

“Looks like it.”

“Probably for the best,” Baxter said, fiddling with his tie. “Things here are under control, right?”

“You tell me.” The thrusters set into the soles of Iron-Man’s boots roared and he hurtled upwards and away, leaving Baxter staring after him.

Not far away, Janet van Dyne-the Wasp-stood on a rooftop, watching the reconstruction. Hands on her hips, she turned. “So, no changing your mind?”

“Nah. I’m happy for reserve status, but…” Jessica Drew-Spider-Woman-shrugged. She was perched on the edge of the roof, arms dangling over her knees. “Lot to be done, Jan.”

“Always is,” Jan said. “You won’t be lacking for company. Daredevil’s here. And Moon Knight.”

“You’d think he’d be here, you know?” Drew said, shaking her head.

“He’s never been very-ah-sociable,” Jan said, smiling slightly. She shrugged. “Regardless, you can all do a lot of good here.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“Don’t sound so negative. This whole mess has convinced the Feds to dip their hands into the rebuilding efforts. SHIELD as well. But the closer it gets to being done, the harder those who’d rather San Francisco remained the way it is now are going to fight to keep it. That includes God knows how many super-villains.”

“Vampires, too.” Spider-Woman stretched. “Lots of fun times ahead.”

“I can’t say I envy you.” The Wasp rubbed her neck. She sighed. “If you need any thing-”

“You’ll come running,” Spider-Woman said, flashing her Avengers ID card. “Don’t worry. I’ll be bothering you three or four times a week.”

The Wasp laughed.

---

The Equinox Zone.

Moon Knight sprinted down the length of the crane, relying on physics to keep himself from falling as the crane itself toppled slowly sideways. He jumped at the last instant, hitting the hook of a second crane, and pulling himself up.

“Missed me, now you got to kiss me,” he muttered, reaching for a moon dart on his belt. Several tendrils of sand crawled up the crane, reaching for him. He threw the moon darts and jumped, gripping the edges of his cape in order to glid safely to the street below. The darts exploded, taking out the crane and scattering sand everywhere.

Moon Knight landed hard and rolled to his feet, clawing for the truncheon in his belt as Quicksand came for him, already reforming as she charged forward. A square half ton of sand slammed down, forcing him to fling himself aside.

Construction workers fled in all directions as he dodged a dozen sand spikes.

“What does it take to kill you?” she said, circling him. He let the truncheon bounce on his hand as he reciprocated.

“More than you have, lady.”

“Banter. I love it,” Quicksand said, striking. Moon Knight leapt up and threw his truncheon into the center of her mass. She laughed and grabbed him, carrying him backwards. “Stupid. Sticks and stones don’t work as well as they used to, Avenger!”

“I’m not an Avenger!” Moon Knight said, jabbing the top of the detonator in his hand. Inside Quicksand, the truncheon exploded. A boiling cloud of heat enveloped her inside out, hardening her to perfect, flawless glass.

Moon Knight got to his feet. “I cannot believe that worked.”

“Our crane!” one of the construction workers shouted. Moon Knight pulled a card out of his cape and flicked it at the man.

“Call SpectorCorp. They’ll replace the crane, gratis.”

“But-”

“Or not. Whatever works for you,” Moon Knight said, reaching up to snag the last rung of the ladder that had unrolled down from the helicopter circling above. “And somebody call SHIELD to come pick her up!” he added as the helicopter pulled him up and away.

“Marc,” Frenchy said, his voice echoing in Moon Knight’s ear through the communicator in his cowl. “Are you sure about this?”

“Dead certain,” Moon Knight said. “I’ve tried the Avengers thing. It didn’t take. It never does, for very long. Plus, too much to worry about here. Fu Manchu. Voelker.”

A sigh. “If you’re sure…”

“Maybe I should just start my own team. Would that make you happy?” Moon Knight said. “Me, Daredevil, Spider-Woman. Maybe I should check on Luke Cage’s availability, hunh? Or how about Paladin?”

“Paladin?”

“Sarcasm,” Moon Knight said. He pointed. “Where next?”

“I intercepted a SHIELD transmission. Looks like there’s a group of Deviants holed up in Alcatraz, holding a few dozen tourists hostage.”

“Hot dog,” Moon Knight said. He pointed. “Hit it. I’ve never been to Alcatraz.”

---

An hour later, Iron-Man and the Wasp stood together, watching SHIELD agents empty out the Serpent Society’s brownstone. Stark looked at Jan. “Spector?”

“No sign of him.” She looked at him. “Did you expect there to be?”

“Nope.” He turned as Dr. Druid and Halifax walked towards them. Halifax moved slowly, the result of his injuries, but beyond that, the tiger-man seemed none the worse for wear from the beating he’d received at the hands of a horde of super-villains. He had a satchel slung over his shoulder, and his sword on his hip.
Druid, his arms folded into the sleeves of his robes, said, “We’ll be leaving now, I believe.”

“Wundagore?” Iron-Man said. Druid nodded.

“Halifax is being summoned home, and I have chosen to accompany him. Dr. Morbius intends to use his new-found humanity to put a permanent end to Dracula, if possible and the New Men intend to aid him. I think that I can be of help to them,” Druid said.

“It will be glorious,” Halifax rumbled. “Providing he doesn’t kill us all, of course.”

“You have your cards?” the Wasp said. Halifax held up his ID card proudly.

“I will cherish it always.”

“I was thinking more that when you found Dracula, you’d contact us,” she said, smiling. Jan wrapped her arms around the tiger-man, then Druid. “What the Avengers start, they finish. When you find him, we’ll come running, one way or another.”

“I have no doubt,” Druid said. He sliced his fingers through the air, and a trail of light flared to life and followed his movements. “Be well, my friends. Should you need me-”

“Us,” Halifax said.

“Us,” Druid corrected. “Rest assured that we will be there.”

The light blazed brighter and brighter, bringing with it the sharp tang of Balkan air, and then they were gone, with only a few flakes of snow to mark their passage.

“Hell,” Iron-Man said after a moment. He slumped slightly.

“It’s fine, Tony,” Jan said.

“Is it?”

“Yeah. It is.” She looked at him. “We’ve survived worse. Remember just before we came out here?”

“Just before Clint disappeared, you mean.” Iron-Man looked at her. “Druid couldn’t find any trace of him. It’s like he’s not even in our reality anymore.”

“So we look in other realities,” the Wasp said. She paused, as a thought occurred to her. “That’s what this was all about, wasn’t it? That thing with the vote?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stark said. Jan smacked a palm against his chest.

“You jackass.”

“What?”

“You want to go looking for him!” she said, crossing her arms. “You broke up the group because-”

“Because they wouldn’t have gone. Or couldn’t have. This way, nobody has any guilt,” Iron-Man said gesturing. “I’ve still got the schematics for that dimensional resonator I used to free the Eternals a few months ago. Simple enough to whip up a more long-term version, key it to Hawkeye’s DNA, and go looking.”

“Travel light, hunh?” the Wasp said. “And what about me?”

“I was going to suggest you take a vacation, actually.” He hesitated. Then, “After Hank-”

“Not likely,” she said, firmly. She poked a finger into his chest. “What, I’m just supposed to wait on you to get back?”

“Actually, I was thinking you’d be the best person to reform the Avengers West, if-uhm-if I didn’t come back.” He shrugged. “Or even if I did.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Jan, I just thought-”

“No, you think you thought. Jackass.” She turned away, shaking her head.

“When the LMD posing as Clint arrived, I thought it would lead us to whoever had him,” Iron-Man said. “That’s why I let things go on. I knew it wasn’t him, I just couldn’t see someone replacing him unless-”

“They had him.” She turned back. “You’re lucky Druid can improvise, you know.”

He held up his hands. “Right. Yes. Bad call. I admit it. But it’s been almost three months now.” He made a fist. “Do you recall anything from the battle against Ultron? In Limbo?”

“I-” She frowned. “It’s dim. Like it’s fading.”

“Chronal lag. Memories made in Limbo can’t happen, so they don’t. After awhile, your brain overwrites them. Unless you regularly make back-up copies of your own mind. Like me.” Iron-Man tapped the side of his head. “I saw Clint in Limbo. The real Clint. And I think I know where he is-”

Something beeped. Iron-Man looked down at his wrist. He cursed. The Wasp touched his arm. “Tony, what is it?”

“The LA compound! We’ve got an intruder!”

“It never ends, does it?” she said. “How can we-”

“Shrink down and hold tight!” Iron-Man scooped her up as his jet-boots fired to life and hurled them upwards. The Nth Metal composing Iron-Man’s armor flowed like mud over Jan as she shrank, sealing her inside its protective shell as Iron-Man struck the upper reaches of the atmosphere ten minutes later, pivoted and shot down towards Los Angeles.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “Can you hear me okay?”

“Barely. What was that?” she said, trying to shift in the cramped pouch she had been sealed into. “What is this?”

“I didn’t feel like getting there too late to do any good. Figured you wouldn’t mind,” he said. “We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Oh good,” Jan said. “I hope that’s a piece of armor poking me, Tony.”

“Of course it is!” he said.

“Good.”

“I think.”

“Tony-” Jan began warningly. The shell around her began to dissolve. “Hey!”

“We’re low enough that you can fly. You go in the back, I’ll hit the front. Alarm is in the meeting room,” Stark said. Jan frowned.

“Right.”

She rolled out into the air, fings buzzing as she found herself confronted with the familiar scenery of the LA Compound. She zipped around the bungalow, heading for the rear entrance.

Iron-Man didn’t bother to land, his jet-boots scorching the grass as he hurtled towards the front door, repulsors whining to life. The doors opened automatically at his approach and he cut a tight corner, searing the wall paper as he charged towards the meeting room.

He crashed through the double doors, ready to fry whatever moved. The Wasp zoomed in through the opposite door, bio-electric energy crackling within her curled fingers.

“Hey guys. I’m back.” Hawkeye said, feet up on the table, his new bow resting across his chest. He looked at them, grinning. “What’d I miss?”

---

Somewhere between this second and the next.

Ultron-Nikola, as it was calling herself-admired her new chassis. Delicate fingers clicked and curled. “I feel-”

“Pretty?” Smith-4, the AIM representative assigned to the Ultron Imperative, interjected. He was clad in a yellow business suit, his bald head tattooed with a data bar.

“No,” Ultron said without a trace of humor. “Maternal.”

“You look wonderful,” Smith-4 said. And she did. The chassis was a variation on the decommisioned Jocasta prototype, with a bit of the early Alkhema designs mixed in, creating something sleek and unique. Ultron turned as something beeped.

“They’re ready,” Smith-4 said.

Ultron moved towards the line of stasis tubes that occupied a corner of the tesseract hideaway that had formerly belonged to Henry Pym. As she passed each tube, it came open with a hiss of hydraulics and a gasp of steam. Within each, pale forms struggled towards consciousness. Each form possessed the same face…that of Henry Pym.

“My sons,” Ultron said. She made a gesture and an automated dispenser rose up, with a number of folded costumes displayed prominently. Each costume, and its accompanying equipment would have been familiar to the clones’ 'father'. There, the helmet and suit of Ant-Man. There, Giant-Man. Goliath. Yellowjacket. All variations and versions from the career of a dead man.

“Come my children. Clothe yourselves,” Ultron said. She spread her arms and made a sound that Smith-4 realized was laughter. It sent a chill up his modified spine and he turned towards his own people, where they had set up in the space provided for them by Ultron.

Drones in canary-colored bee-keeper outfits skuttled around, checking the readings on the squat device that occupied most of the space there. It was vaguely arachnid shaped, with eight piston ‘legs’ and a bulbous armored ‘thorax’. Tendrils composed of an adamantium-vibranium mix dangled from the body. And, on top, a revolving cylinder composed of twelve glass-like cylinders filled with a pale fluid. Floating in each cylinder was a perfectly formed human mind, held suspended in a web of tubes, wires and electrodes. Twelve versions of Henry Pym’s mind, wired together in a deadly gestalt.

Even as the clones of Henry Pym awoke to Ultron’s welcoming words, the device rose suddenly, the fluid in its brain-cannisters bubbling. The speakers on the cylinders made an interrogative sound. Smith-4 smiled and stood before it, hands behind his back.

“Hello, ThinkTank. Welcome to the world.”

---

 

THE END...?

 

---

 

NEXT ISSUE: A new writer! A new direction! Meriades Rai begins his run on Avengers West Coast!

 

---

I’ve been writing this title since issue 18. That’s-one-two-three-twenty seven issues! That is a lot. We had some good times though, right? Remember Dracula coming back? That was great. And when I had Conan show up? Bet you thought that wouldn’t be a continuing thing, hunh?

Originally, I was going to string out the Fu-Manchu story for a few more issues (as you can probably tell from the sort of rushed feeling to things), but frankly, I wanted to let Meri get to things while the iron of creativity was still hot, so to speak. So, we go out with a bang, and most of my dangling participles are cleaned up and tied off (save a few…have to leave something for the next guy, right?) in satisfying ways.

Well, I thought they were satisfying.

So what happens to the Hyborian Avengers, you might be asking. And Dr. Druid and Halifax? And Moon Knight? And-and-and so on and so forth.

Simple answer?

I don’t know. You tell me. I might get back to them, sometime, somewhen, in Marvel Fanfare. Or maybe you could do it. I’m putting the toys back in the toybox. Feel free to play with them.

Have fun. I know I did.

-Josh Reynolds

---