Recently in "Defenders": The force within Beta Ray Bill's hammer was revealed to be none other than former Defender and Son of Satan Daimon Hellstrom. The foe who battered Doctor Strange at the former site of Zenn-La, Strange's former mystical mentor the Ancient One, had paired with Hellstrom to destroy the Defenders entirely from jealousy and madness, but the Black Knight's sudden reappearance and Ebony Blade destroyed the Ancient One and sent Daimon fleeing back to Hell, leaving ten assorted heroes exhausted and confused on the streets of New York...

**********

Interlude (Little Rock, Colorado)

The bitterly freezing breezes blow softly through the tall trees that dot the side of the street, chilling even the cold white snow that has collected on the wise plants. The nipping air easily finds its way through the jackets of the three young boys, all brothers, who run along this street, overjoyed with the first considerably snow of the year and the beginning of the long weekend they have planned ahead.

They are running, and even they do not know where or exactly why. They are too happy, though, entranced in the mood that the weather brings them to give it even so much as another thought.

"Free from it all!" declares the youngest as he runs ahead of the others, his turquoise jacket accentuating his youth as he jumps into the air and twists with his arms raised to the sky. "Seven inches of snow, no school, and the holiday break coming up in just a few weeks...this is great!"

"We only get this for four days, Adam," says the young man whose age lies between the two others', and who runs considerably slower than the others. His voice is slightly monotone. "Then we go back to school and the living Hell begins again..."

"John, just shut up," the oldest finally orders while he keeps up with Adam. "Four days is enough time to get plenty done, so just keep it to yourself if you're gonna mope, okay? Me and Adam don't have to take you along, you know...you're old enough for mom to let you go on your own."

"Yeah," Adam echoes, "Me and Pete don't have to take you along, if you're gonna be all sad." He points to John and with innocent concern he adds, "You shouldn't say the 'H'-word, either...not unless it's for church."

"Why the Hell not?" John asks quite blatantly, and smiles slightly for the first time at his younger brother's reaction.

"John! Pete, make him stop..."

"Just leave it alone. It's not that bad a word, and he's just going to keep on about it anyway, so both of you just keep quiet and don't bug each other." He takes a rejuvenating breath from his sprinting and then comments more quietly. "I swear, you two have most amazing ability to spoil a perfectly good.....

".....Weekend." He finishes his sentence as they come to a shrouded brick wall and halt at the sight of it. Without realizing it, they have entered an alley none of them remember seeing before in their close community. The realization brings a quick chill to their already frozen bones.

"Now look what you guys did," the elder brother says, ready to turn around and restart their aimless running. "You were arguing so much you made us lose our way..."

Pete thinks for a moment while the others wait in silence, and he scratches his brown hair in deep thought.

"Actually...I don't even remember where we were going."

Uncomfortably, the youngest brother agrees. "Me too. Was it the library?" And John rolls his eyes, scoffing.

"The library...I'm glad I'm not in second grade anymore."

Before Adam can even begin to retort, Pete holds up his hands to halt them.

"Everyone just shut up for a minute..." His breathing has become deeper and less fulfilling.

"Listen, I don't care where we were going, but there's nothing to do here, and...let's just go, alright? We can argue about where we're going later," he finally manages to spout, sounding less confident than before.

"Yeah...okay." Adam, for the moment, has nothing more to say, and the third of them concurs.
"Let's get outta here. I don't like this place..." Adam turns to begin leaving, and as the others follow, they find the same thing he has found:

The end of the alley, or an end of the alley, in place of where they had entered it.

In unison they all look back to the other end of the alley and find the same scene as before, shadows and all, and from he darkness a figure seems to manifest itself from the very fabric of the absence of light, making the brothers jump.

"You don't like this place, little boy?" the figure asks, remaining in the hiding confines of the darkness. "And I thought every little boy liked the circus..."

"Circus...?" Adam asks under his breath. Pete steps forward, albeit timidly, and tries his best to sound confident.

"W-Who are you? And what happened to the alley...?"

Pete leaves it at that and the figure steps out of the darkness, revealing himself. His long, frizzy black hair lays past his shoulders, clad in leather and black silk. The top hat atop his head blends into the place of his origin, and below it is his deathly pale face, the only coloration of which being the black circles painted around the man's piercing eyes. He is skinny, and not particularly tall nor all that short.

"Oh, this isn't an alley anymore..." he says in his raspy voice and drawing nearer to the family, "This is the front entrance to the circus."

"What the Hell is that supposed to mean..." John says, then passively turns away from Pete's quick glare.

"What circus? There's a circus in town?" Adam asks gleefully, mirroring the mysterious man's advances.

"Of course there is...this circus is always in town, no matter where you are. Do you want to see it?" the stranger asks.

"Stay back, Adam...you never answered me. Who are you?" Pete asks as Adam ignores his suggestion, inching closer to the man and the dark wall, which looks to be more a black door than a wall now.

"My name's Alice." he finally tells them.

"Alice? That's a stupid name for a guy...sounds kinda gay..." John comments, and Alice looks on to Adam walking the other way.

"Maybe I think 'John' is a stupid name."

"How did you...?" John asks, but Pete directs his attention to their brother as he reaches out to the liquid wall of shadows that has formed out of the brick.

"Adam, no...!"

And then he is gone completely, leaving the two brothers with their strange captor, who looks them over as if asking a question.

"Well?" he adds to the look.

"Fine. Let's go, John..." Pete says, grabbing his reluctant brother's arm and dragging him into the swirling abyss. As they enter, Alice follows, and suddenly the alley is normal again, lit by the dim winter sun and made of bricks once more. The first thing they see on the other side of whatever they passed through is a sign.

"Welcome to Wonderland."

End Interlude

New York, New York...

"This is...stupid. Stupid and crazy..." Regina Garney says apprehensively while Doctor Stephen Strange, the Hulk, and Hellcat all crowd around her.

"The Defenders obviously need to be together again," Patsy Walker, the Hellcat, tells her, "And you need to be a part of it."

"You don't even know me!" the mother exclaims, "I'm no hero...I hate super-heroes, you can ask anyone."

"It's your own choice whether or not to put your abilities to good use," Doctor Strange's wise voice speaks. "Unluckily I wasn't...around...to see what you did, but some of the others have told me that you joined the fight by yourself, and your powers are something to speak of as well."

"Listen..." Regina begins, and slowly begins recapping what has happened over the past day. "I just wanted to help get this over with so me and my kid could get home...I didn't mean to get involved in it this long, and when that...man, or whatever he was, destroyed my home it probably destroyed just about everything we own.*" She makes a sour frown and passively folds her arms. "That's why I've never done anything with my powers before...I just knew that something horrible would happen just like it does with all you super-types...and now me and Mark have nothing, and what's been accomplished?" Her voice subsides slightly near the end of her sentence, and she looks down to the ground.

(* Regina joined the fray in Defenders #2, while the Ancient One destroyed her apartment in Defenders #4. -Will)

"I don't think you understand the ramifications of what happened just now," says Doctor Strange, "But nonetheless, any number of people were saved today. You were a part of that, Regina..."

Before he can take his sentence any further, the air is interrupted with the shrill call of a young boy sprinting their way on the cracked pavement, his eyes spread wide as his bright eyes.
"Mommy! You and the tights-men saved the day!" he cries joyfully, jumping into his mother's loving embrace.

"Something like that..." Regina replies almost indifferently, holding her child tightly to her body. Mark pulls away to look her in the eyes.

"What're we gonna do about our house, mommy? The bad man blowed it up." Regina's eyes droop even more sorrowfully as she strokes back a stray lock of his unkempt blonde hair. "I...I don't know, honey. We'll think of something..."

A hand finds Regina's thin shoulder, and she looks over it to see attached to the hand the caped form of Doctor Strange, who smiles warmly at her and her child. "I have a place," he says almost jokingly at the reference, "It's rather large...the both of you are welcome to stay there as long as you like."

"We could always use another powerhouse on the team," the Hulk adds playfully, "None of these others have even put up a good fight against me."

"That's not my power..." Regina answers, standing with Mark's hand in hers, "And I'm still not joining a silly super-team. This has taught me that nothing good can come from it." Passing her first comment away, Stephen reiterates.

"I wish you could reconsider," says Doctor Strange as he smiles again, "But the offer remains whether you join us or not...my sanctorum is open to you and Mark."

The sorrow seems to lift from Regina's face slightly and she almost manages a smile with Mark's warm little hand in hers. "That's...really nice of you to offer, but we couldn't impose..."

"There would be no imposition at all. As I said, it is a rather large place with enough room for many guests...and I have a feeling I'll be having a great deal of those visiting, anyway." He motions to the loosely assembled plethora of godlike men and women gathered in the surrounding area.

"Speaking of which, Stephen," says Patsy, who has turned to said group of assorted figures, "What exactly is the status of the Defenders? I mean, we never really were the most organized of groups, and there are a lot of people here..."

"I've already begun thinking of this, Patsy," Stephen claims easily. "I believe some discussion is in order. If we can all return to my sanctorum, we may be able to make some headway while Regina and Mark decide whether they wish to stay with me or not..."

"I will not be returning with you, Stephen." So proclaims the metal-tinged voice of Norin Radd, the Silver Surfer, who overheard the wizard and approached him with his gleaming board and the alien Beta Ray Bill, his mallet Storm Breaker returned to him, in tow.

"Norin...I..." Strange begins to say, and is interrupted yet again as the Surfer raises his hand.
"No...please spare me your words for the moment. I do not wish to sound rude, Stephen, but I am in no mood for discussion. I have many things to sort out at the moment...one being that I cannot stop thinking about my home and its people*. I have reason to believe there may be some survivors, and even a small chance is enough for me to scour the stars searching them out." He pauses for a short instant. "I cannot always be here dealing with Earth, Doctor, and I hope you have realized that." To this, Stephen nods somberly, and the silver-plated rider speaks again. "Beta Ray Bill has offered his aid in my search...I feel it is my rightful place to do so. I hope you and the others may understand this," he says, searching for acceptance in the eyes of his longtime comrade.

(* The Surfer's home planet of Zenn-La was destroyed by the Ancient One immediately before Defenders #1. -Will)

"Of course, Norin," Doctor Strange says to him. "We will miss you...but I understand your need, and I'm sure the others will too."

"I'm gonna miss you, Surfer," Hulk reveals, offering a mighty green hand to the shining former herald, who takes it in an almost equal grip. "The old team won't be the same without you."
Climbing onto his board while Beta Ray Bill swings his mystical hammer to prepare for flight, the Silver Surfer looks down on his friends with a melancholy, barren eye. "And I will miss you...perhaps I will return to the Defenders someday, but even I am not certain of it. Farewell..." With that, he and the Norse-endowed alien fly swiftly into the sky and ultimately out of the orbit of our planet, leaving eight varied figures watching intently from the battle-razed site.

"He's not very...'balanced', I guess, right now, is he, Stephen...?" Hellcat asks quietly, still looking to the place where she last glimpsed the Surfer.

"He never really has been, has he?" is his reply, said without malice. "Bill may be able to anchor him some, but that's all I can hope, besides that the Surfer never finds the Ancient One, for my teacher's own sake." His own tired eyes return their stare to Regina and her son beside him, and he speaks to her invitingly.

"So? Will you at least visit my home and consider a stay while the others and I talk for a bit?" His mustache curls slightly above his smile which offers friendship as well as shelter, and Regina looks down to her son.

"Mark, do you want to take a trip to the magic man's house?" she asks him, and he grips her hand tightly as he answers with a resounding, "Yeah!"

"Then take hands, all of you," he says loudly to the group, "We will retire to my quarters to rest...and for some of us, to talk." As they gather, Brunnhilde the Valkyrie smiles a true warrior's smile at Regina, and says to her, "I verily hope that thou may take to our numbers...I would be proud to battle alongside the likes of such a valiant warrior, and one so strong, as well."

"...Thanks....." Regina says apprehensively, "But like I said...that's not really my power...or at least not always."

"I do not follow," the Valkyrie says, but Regina only shakes her auburn head.

"Don't worry about it for now." And the warrior goddess does not.

So, under the mage and sometimes leader's suggestion, Hellcat takes his hand and so does Mark, already clinging to his mother. The Hulk joins, as do Valkyrie, Luke Cage, and Namor, who all at once disperse their respective images into the air and take to a magical flight of particles that many have never experienced and never will have the chance to, beginning a journey to a place that many have never visited and most likely never will have the chance to. They are the select that may do so...though some are more appreciative of the feeling than others.

Second Interlude (Hell's Kitchen, New York)

He is an angelic guardian wrapped in the guise of a devil. He is fearless and without inhibition. Nothing may stand in the way of his protection for the dark city corner he has named his lair.

He is Daredevil, the man without fear, and his right foot just broke a man's jaw.

"I told you...how many times? Three? More?" the Daredevil asks without a smile, though his words hint at sarcasm. He lands, again ready to strike with his billyclub clenched tightly in his red-gloved hand. Behind him stands, rather staggers, a man known to most of Hell's Kitchen as Slick Rick Arknoff, grasping his shattered mouth under calloused hands.

"Nah...naw, Dehdvil...ah jus cum to see ma kid..." says Slick Rick, straining under the pain and unable to form his words. As he lies though a mouth quickly filling with blood, Daredevil relaxes his stance and walks over to him slowly, looking on him with pity.

"Rick, I told you to stay out of the Kitchen...it was a part of the deal. You gave me your promise." He puts his strong hand on Rick's back as he bends over to vomit a colorful, pungent mixture of alcohol, blood, teeth and stomach acid. "Then you not only try to sneak in under my nose, but you run from me and pull a gun on me. I didn't want to make it worse, Rick, but I can't keep having this happen. I can't have you dealing in my town...and I hate guns."

Once his stripped stomach is done emptying itself, Rick slowly raises his torso and looks past Daredevil's crimson, chiseled face to the evening sky, already losing the day's light. High atop the roof where the red man chased him, and knocked his gun loose before he could even fire it, and broke his jawbone, Slick Rick frowns crookedly.

"Ah...ah just wanned ta see...ma kid....." he echoes from before.

"You can't see Travis or your wife for another three months...you know that. If you'd just wait, we wouldn't have to keep extending it." He sniffs the air and holds out a hand palm up. "And stop lying to me. Hand it over, Rick."

After a moment's hesitation, Rick sighs and reaches into his brown coat's inner pocket and retrieves from it a small plastic bag filled with shining white powder, then waits again before slowly placing the bag in Daredevil's open palm with a trembling hand. Daredevil shakes his head and walks to the edge of the roof to pour the sugar-like crystals out. As they are caught and blown away by the wind, Rick flops to the edge and falls to his knees, moaning like a wounded animal.

"The stuff is no good for you, Rick. You're lucky this is all I'm doing...they would tear you up in the courtroom if I turned that stuff in, and you'd probably never see your family or even the light of day again."

"Ahhh.....ah no...ah needit."

"What you need is rehabilitation and some time in a jail cell to think." Turning from Rick, Daredevil paces in that direction, continuing and sighing. "My fault, really...but Dina begged and begged me, and then Travis...well, you've got a great kid and wife, Rick, and I can understand why you'd want to see them, but this isn't going to be the way to get there. I guess I just hoped that someone could change but..." Suddenly, he stops, and perks his keenly acute ears to the slowly frosting air.

There is still a heartbeat...it's increasing, pounding like it will burst from his chest, and seeming to get further and further away.

"Rick...?" he asks again, and turns. Daredevil's radar senses no figure at the edge of the roof.

He runs to the side, and sends his radar out again...only in time to hear the splintering of bones, so much that they turn to dust and make a very unique smell like friction and death. Daredevil hears the liquidation of Rick's internal organs and muscles...he tastes the blood particles that have hitched a ride on the wind's back. "Rick..." he says a final time, whispering the man's name as he kneels on the edge of the twelve-story New York building, where Slick Rick Arknoff was last seen living.

After moments of thoughts drenched in pity and guilt, possibly a little relief that comes with the guilt, Daredevil jumps down from the building in a graceful flip, landing on the darkening street where few walk. He ignores the puddle that used to be a body on the ground nearby, and while some many think he is lucky that he cannot see it, they have never experienced a completely dismembered body through superhuman senses.

Nearby, he slowly makes his way to a pay phone, and dials three numbers without urgency. Less than three rings later, an attentive voice is heard on the other end of the line.

"NYC 911 Emergency, this is Jeff."

"Hello......" Daredevil says as his free hand finds its way to message his temple, "I'd...like to report a suicide."

Minutes and too many words later, the Daredevil is on his way home under the guidance of his swinging club. As he takes the short journey, his mind is ravaged with thoughts of what may have been had he treated simply one past situation differently, even in the smallest way, to make a difference. The thought, though hindering, does not carry with him long, as he has trained himself to somehow accept what has happened almost no matter what it is. His apartment is within sight now, and he anticipates the rest, even if constantly interrupted, he may find there. Of course, tomorrow he knows he will have to tell Dina and Travis.....

The window cracks open and he crawls inside slyly like a thin spider. The one he has chosen this time leads to the kitchen, with its tiled floors and not-so-stainless counters. Feet on the ground, Daredevil begins to peel his second skin from his face as he walks into the next room, his dark living room.

Before he may sit on his couch, Daredevil jumps at the phantom voice behind him.

"Well...you certainly took a while getting home, didn't you?" it says, causing Daredevil to flip and return his mask to face the source of the voice. It is strange...he heard no heartbeat, no breathing or movement, and still hears none of these things, only the stranger's voice.

"Come now, Matthew, there's no reason to put that on. We're all friend here, after all." From the other side of the room Daredevil senses a thin, medium-sized male, though the state of the man...or whatever it may be...is in debate, without any audible or otherwise signs of being there besides the protector's acute radar and hearing.

"Alright. You know who I am, you got into my apartment without me knowing, and you've somehow managed to cloak all ways I could possibly identify you. You have five seconds to tell me who you are, what you want, and how you got in here....." He speaks confidently, only to hide the strange nervousness he has suddenly found.

"I won't be needing that much time to show you, Matthew."

"Don't call me that. And show me what? Obviously you know my condition, if you know who I am....." But the solid cold slowly creeping around Daredevil's limbs is more imagery than he could ask for. He struggles, though in vain, and the stranger steps closer to grab one of the Daredevil's engulfed arms as the dark crawls up him like chilling vines.

"It's time we showed you a little scare, don't you say?" Muffled groans are all that escape the Daredevil's mouth, and the pale man with raven black hair smiles. "I knew you'd say that."

As the two are absorbed in the shadowstuff, Daredevil feels himself being almost pulled through some sort of opening in existence. The feeling is not unlike pulling a wet rag through a hole that is too small for it...though the red-suited vigilante is more than a rag, and the hole he is being pulled through is more than ordinary. With that in mind, a rag would put up no purposeful resistance to its pulling. Daredevil, however, has no intent of letting that happen.

His mind clouds with the inky substance that has engulfed his body, but the force that attempts to wrench him elsewhere finds another acting against it, something based internally of its target...

"Get..."

Something burning red with violation and contempt...

"...Out..."

The willpower of a strong man...the iron will of Matt Murdock, the Daredevil.

"...Of my HEAD!"

He somehow finds the strength to lift his limbs and grab at his temples, writhing in the agony of the battle taking place within his mind. His refusal to give in is the only true weapon he has, and in the end, it makes him the victor...though not before the darkness finds a hidden corner of his collective thoughts long left dusty and untouched.

More suddenly than they appeared, the thin man and his darkness is gone, and Daredevil is alone in his living room, eyes dilated while trembling, kneeling...recounting countless nightmares that may or may not have ever existed before this night. In theory, Daredevil has nothing to worry about...he is the man without fear, after all.

But along with Daredevil there is Matt Murdock...only a man, a blind lawyer, and every man has his own fears, inside and out, to face.

End Interlude

The Innermost Depths of Doctor Strange's Sanctum Sanctorum...

"All I know is I'm not going to have a damn UN sanction or reserve members of anything, if I'm going to be a part of this. That's not what we're about..." These are the words of the incredible Hulk, sitting cross-legged with a dwarfed cup of steaming coffee hanging from a single green digit.

"I agree, and I think that's precisely it: we're not about anything in particular except for...well, 'defending'." Doctor Strange concurs. "The Defenders have never been a celebrity-filled, public country club, nor a secret society like all the Xs.....we've been.....a rotating family, to put it one way. We have what we need and who we need when we need it."

Namor sits forward in his own chair at the triangular table, placing his hands open on its unknown wood. "This is true, my friends, that can also be said that that is one of our faults. How many times have the three original Defenders returned from distractions to find new faces we have never seen before with our name?"

"That's really of no concern," Strange tells the Atlantean prince, "Because in each case the new members have been very capable allies and most ended up being valuable, good friends. It doesn't matter to me whether they have our blessings or not...we are not the only people who have proved ourselves Defenders."

"As much as some of us might want to think that..." the Hulk adds quietly, looking away from his friends.

"I am not suggesting that we keep others from joining...in fact, I believe it would be good for the team to have such an experienced warrior as Warbird in our midst..."

"Stop thinking with your..." Hulk interrupts, but is overpowered in speech by Namor.

"I was not finished! I am not suggesting we admit no new additions...I am saying that to be successful we must have some sort of order, some sort of leadership and guidance!" says Namor, banging a now closed fist on the three-pointed furniture, luckily for itself being sturdy enough to withstand his relatively weak blow.

"I kinda miss the days when we would just get together when something really needed to happen..." The Hulk says this passively, and Stephen immediately follows it.

"We won't be a tightly held group, Hulk, but we must have some sort of allies waiting on call..." Stephen tells him as Namor stands angrily.

"Why have allies on call? Why not just have a melodramatic herald off in space that may or may not come to aid us, or a woman who has had more lives and identities than the devil himself?" The sarcasm in his words is uncommon for the prince, but it reaches the other two, especially Stephen for some reason, quite clearly.

"See here, Namor..." the magician begins and stands, while Hulk stays at the table, his monstrous head supported in both his hands as he stares at the table.

"Maybe we should've had the others in on this one..."

Elsewhere in the Sanctorum...

"So...explain this to me again?" Luke Cage says this to Regina Garney across the kitchen of Doctor Strange, as the servant Wong sets a steaming cup of coffee before her on the table.
"Thank you very much," she says to her newly acquainted servant, who merely nods and exits the room in response. Turning back to her captivated audience, the likes of Luke Cage, the Valkyrie, and the Black Knight, Regina takes a sip of the offering and explains her situation once again.

"I have, really, any and every power you could imagine...every time I go to sleep, I wake up with a new power that replaces the last one."

"How couldst one come upon such a wily and powerful situation?" Asks Brunnhilde, her sword never far from her feminine yet deadly hand.

"Honestly, I'm not sure," Regina answers. "It's been like this for a few years. Just wait and see when I go to bed next...it's been awhile since I rested."

"And you have no idea how such a thing could be bestowed on you?" the Black Knight inquires, echoing the Valkyrie's own, and Regina shakes her head. "Then perhaps Stephen can help you with that as well...he is rather schooled in the mysterious."

"We'll see. I guess it depends on whether Mark and I stay with him or not..."

Muffled through the thick walls of the room, a high-pitched cry of juvenile astonishment enters the kitchen. "And it sounds like if he has his way, Mark and I will at least be having a long discussion about it..."

Still Elsewhere in the Sanctorum...

"Look at that one!" Mark Garney's short finger is pointed at the Orb of Agamotto, the centerpiece to Doctor Strange's collection of the arcane. As he runs quickly to it, Hellcat attempts to hold him back to no avail.

"Hold on there, Mark," she says light-heartedly, "We should probably just look and not touch..."

The sphere, resting upon an elaborate podium all its own, reflects the young boy's grinning image while he looks into it. He looks back at Patsy as she walks to catch up with him, still smiling. "Is it a crystal ball?"

Patsy cannot help but mirror that same boyish grimace. "Something like that. The magician, the man whose house this is...this is the most important object in his collection. He looks at it to see other places, even other times if he wants..."

"Really?" he says with wide eyes, then looks back at the ancient glass ball.

"Of course! He's a wizard, remember?"

"Do..." Mark stumbles on his words in excitement, "Do ya think we could look at stuff in it?"

"We won't know until we take a look, now will we? Go ahead...let's see if we can make this thing do what it was made for..."

To Patsy, her words are only pampering, though to Mark they are a promise of things he has only read about. Both stare into the Orb of Agamotto, only one expecting to see anything besides their reflection in the glass. But they gasp in unison, Mark in joy and Patsy in surprise, as crimson clouds begin to form within the mystical item, and within them, images.

"Look!" Mark exclaims, pointing at the swirling now occurring in the Orb. Patsy already is...and she feels her heart skip a beat as she does.

In the mass within Stephen Strange's tool, she sees a face...a handsome man's face, whose burning eyes and regal nose she knows all too well. Behind his image are endless flames mixed into the clouded mist.

"...Daimon.....?"

Back in the Kitchen...

"Agggghhhhhhh....!" This time, Mark's scream pierces the wall, and all within the kitchen rise in response, cocking their heads in the direction of the noise.

"Mark?" his mother asks weakly, then with more concern. "Mark!" The four sprint to the neighboring room of Strange's artifacts, opening its large hinged door to reveal a heavily decorated room and, to their initial relief Mark. Only Mark, and he is crying.

"Mark honey...baby what is it?" Regina asks, hugging her son to her as tightly as comfort will allow.

"Where's Patsy?" Luke Cage asks aloud, and Regina looks her son in the eye as she holds him away.

"Mark? Where did the cat-lady go?"

Sniveling and rubbing his eyes, Mark Garney takes his time to answer, but finally does with frightening truth.

"The fiery man in the crystal ball...he took her!"

At the Founding Defenders' Meeting Place...

"Did you hear that? That scream?" the Hulk interrupts his friends' bickering and stands at attention. The two look back to him with contempt, more so in Namor.

"What are you talking about? I heard nothing..." the Atlantean Prince claims, to which Doctor Strange concurs through a swift nod.

"Probably because you two were too busy fighting to hear it...it sounded like Regina's kid, from downstairs."

"You must be mistaken, Hulk..." the Sub-Mariner tells him, but even as he does that the Hulk moved his large form surprisingly fast to the door and into the hall.

He bounds down the corridor quickly, despite the absence of any other screams, and the emerald man-monster finally makes his way to what he thinks is the door to the staircase. A turned knob and a creaking door later, he is not so sure.

The door slams shut behind him, and the Hulk sees not a staircase but a room he has never seen in Stephen's gargantuan manor before.

"Huh?" he half grunts, and takes heavy steps deeper into the new location. It only takes seconds for him to notice the creeping feeling quickly climbing up his thick leg...but those few seconds are too long. Within the minute, he is overtaken by a horrible solid form of nothingness, and while succumbing to its grip on him, struggling as he may, he hears the fading laughter of an ominous, raspy voice...

The thin man in the top hat steps into sight for an instant, still chuckling to himself slightly as he speaks.

"Heh...'Hulk smash', indeed."

Final Interlude

She hopes to God, to someone, that this isn't where she thinks it is...but she knows that it is.

The scent of brimstone causes her nose to curl, and the searing flames make her perspire on the endless ground of hot coals she has found footing upon. Below there are more flames, even more intense, and in them she can barely make out the contorted bodies of people and other creatures she doesn't want to think of. The stairs form one by one in front of her from the red-hot coals. She knows she has no choice.

Seemingly endless, the stairs only take a few long minutes to scale to the highest, floating chunk of rock, her apparent goal. Her heart races, and she almost tires by the time she finally gets there. Then it nearly stops again.

"Greetings, Patsy." His voice...it's something that has haunted her dreams for years. On his throne made of bones and coals, rotting flesh and bat wings, entrails and feces, a three-pronged infernal trident in hand, he beckons to her. He is Daimon Hellstrom, the Son of Satan...and he is smiling at Patsy Walker, once his Hellcat.

"What...do you want, Daimon?" She struggles to find a brave tone, and fails. "Do you want to kill me and the others? Or just take revenge on me..."

The look of hurt in his eyes is at least partially sincere. "Why no, Patsy...I do not want to kill you, or hurt you. That is quite far from what I wish to do..."

He stands suddenly, and Patsy backs away slightly. His arms stretch out, seeming to engulf all of Hell around them, and he proclaims in a proud voice, "I want you, Patsy, and..."

"I want to offer you my kingdom."

End Interlude

Next Issue: Daredevil seeks the aid of the Defenders, the Hulk undergoes a surprising change, and the Defenders become involved in something more than any of them realize. Plus, Patsy must make the hardest decision of her life, and the return of four familiar faces...all this and more in DEFENDERS #6!

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