Venice Italy, the past...?

Andrea Russo gave his old, blind mother a peck on the cheek and smiled as she cried what could be seen as both tears of joy and worry.

“Andrea, please, reconsider! What if your body can’t take the serum? They say it’s dangerous!”

“I know mother, I know. But our country needs a hero, and they say that there’s a chance that I could be that hero! Don’t you think that is worth the risk?”

Reluctantly, his mother nodded her approval, “It is. I know now, that I have never been more proud of you.”

Hellios played the memory of his conversation with his mother in his head over and over, as he hovered some sixty stories over where he remembered his dear old mother’s house to have been.

Only his mother didn’t live there, at least not today. A simple check of the records revealed that a Mrs. Russo had never, in fact, lived in the flats directly below. How was that possible, Hellios wondered, when he expressly remembered visiting her just two weeks ago?

To make things even more maddening for the solar powered hero, the memories felt…wrong. He couldn’t place the feeling, but something about them felt off, like a splinter just beneath the skin.

So he tried to remember other, littler things about the neighborhood, like who lived next door, or where his family would go out to dinner.

Nothing. Save for a few scattered memories, none of which felt ‘right’, Hellios found could not remember a damn thing about living in the area.

But somehow, at the same time, Hellios knew that Italy was his home. His favorite foods, styles, T.V shows, they all felt real, tangible. But how could that be when so much else was so obviously fake…?

Hellios shook his head, and then, faster than a speeding bullet, flew towards another city that stuck out in his memory.

---

 

On the outer edges of the planet

Space is considered a vast, empty place by the average man. Most know that there are satellites orbiting our planet for both commercial and government purposes. Some people think that there are only a hundred. Few know that the space above planet earth, there are tens of thousands man-made objects in orbit around earth.

And only a few hundred people, with the highest security clearance on the planet, know about twelve specially designed satellites that scan the earth continuously for Omega level superhuman energy signatures at the request of high ranking officials.

At the moment, one such satellite was tracking a bio-solar powered omega superhuman, who was flying erratically across the Middle East at Mach-four.

Strangely though, this information wasn’t transmitted to Avalon, base of the United Nation's strikeforce as preprogrammed commands demanded, but instead sent the information to a secret base along the Iran/Afghanistan border.

While there were less than twenty people occupying this particular base, but thankfully for them, there was always a man at the monitors. When the sentry saw the information flashing across his screen, he bolted up from his chair and raced to find his superiors.

After all, it wasn’t every day that a demi-God came within their grasp.

---

 

Avalon, HERMES Teleporter

“Remember, under no conditions are you to fail,” Chapman stalked back in forth in front of the teleporter. Chapman vaguely reminded Union Jack of the generals in old war movies, giving his soldiers some rousing speech.

The difference here was, no one held half as much respect for Chapman as those soldiers held for their general. In fact, this entire mission smelled to Rock. His contacts in British Intelligence had told him that the higher ups were wetting themselves about Hellios’ disappearance but no one really knew why. At least, none of Rock’s contacts knew, though he was reasonably certain he knew why they were getting their knickers in a twist.

Even odder was the fact that every member of Excalibur had been contacted by their respective United Nations ambassador personally, and told in no uncertain terms to give the mission their all, without offering an explanation why. Union Jack supposed he should be annoyed with the secrecy and politics surrounding this mission, but to his horror he found that he was getting used to it.

Rock barely noticed when the teleporter was activated. With a blink, he was taken from the teleport room, to a cold, sterile room that looked as if it had just been 'scrubbed'. It was obvious, even to the untrained eye, that computers and other heavy equipment that had been here was obviously removed.

“...where did they teleport us?” asked Silverclaw, "an abandoned movie set?"

“The lab where Hellios became the man he is today,” answered Union Jack, “though obviously, they wanted to keep the exact secrets about that to themselves. I doubt we'll find another soul here.”

“What makes them so certain that he’ll turn up here?” asked Cybermancer.

Union Jack considered his words carefully before he answered, “There might be some concerns for Hellios’ mental state. It’s only logical that he would think that the lab that gifted him with his powers would also hold the answers to his questions.”

“I'm going to scout the base,” Sabra stated.

“Trying to pry some more secrets for the Mossad?” proposed Scarlet Scarab.

“You act as though I don't already know everything about this base,” Sabra countered smugly, “I simply want some tactical knowledge of the lab should things become...complicated.”

“If you know so much, then perhaps you could inform us why this subject has made all of our respective governments uncomfortable,” Scarab asked, “all of us want to find our teammate, but there's something more than they're not telling us, that much is obvious.”

Sabra glanced towards Rock, who answered no with his eyes, “I do, but I feel it's best that that information remain relatively secret for the time being, until we can use it to it's best tactical advantage. But don't worry yourself, Scarab, when this mission is over, we'll all know Hellios' secret.”

---

 

“Who am I?” Hellios muttered to himself, lost in thought, “and why am I here?”

'Here' was a scarcely populated, at least originally, neighborhood of Kurdistan in northern Iraq. Unlike most of the country, Kurdistan had been a self governing for years before the invasion. With their own police force and army, they easily kept the pace, making Hellios, hovering some twelve feet in the air, quite a spectacle. A large crowd gathered to watch as policemen formed a barricade around the area while tanks were pulled in from border patrol.

Hellios remained obvious to the commotion he was causing, his mind wracked with two separate sets of memory. For some reason, Kurdistan stuck out in his mind like a spike in his brain, unwilling to let go. Something about this place, these people, just seemed real to him.

The solar powerhouse was struggling with the mystery for a good half hour, lost in the mystery of his own mind when, out of the clear blue sky, a tornado slammed into his chest dead center and blasted him to the earth.

Hellios shook his head, more startled than stunned. Almost instantly, several more tornados, spawned from nothing, formed in front of the gaping crowd. Mothers grabbed their children and ran, curious teenagers scrambled to get away and the police struggled to contain it all.

“I apologize about my sudden assault, but I think it best we speak in relative private, and it’s rather hard for me to maintain flight.”

Hellios looked up to see a man, dressed in red, light weight body armor, flaps under his arms like that of a flying squirrel and a helmet with a glass panel over his face.

“My name is Aminedi, Hellios,” the man offered his hand in friendship, “and I believe that I can help you with your identity issues.”

“Do you think me a fool?” In a blur, Hellios grabbed the man by the neck, his thick fingers easily wrapping around the man’s slender neck, “a stranger comes out of nowhere to solve all my problems. How stupid do you think I am?”

“I…don’t think you stupid…at all,” choked out Aminedi, “…I actually... respect you…Goran.”

Hellios released the man as the name ‘Goran’ cut through his mind like a knife. With all the conflicting image and mist like memories, the name ‘Goran’ somehow felt real, tangible.

Against his better judgment, Hellios released the man.

"Thank you," Aminedi rubbed his sore throat, "I come bearing gifts because if who you are, and who you could be, to us and all our brothers!"

Hellios eyed the man with suspicion, "And I don't suppose you'd be willing to simply tell me the secrets that you obviously know about me?"

"There would be little point. Your mind is clouded with memories you believe...know, to be false, yes?"

With some consideration, Hellios nodded.

"What's the point in me revealing the truth, when your mind won't even recognize it?"

As much as he hated to admit it, Hellios knew the man had a point.

"My team and I will assist you. Once we have done that, I hope that you will use to remain with us."

"Your team?"

Aminedi smiled a little too politely, "We call ourselves Desert Sword. Al-Fasaud! Please bring me my soldiers!"

Hellios watched a familiar teleport signature open to reveal four men. Well, at least the first two looked like men. The second two looked nothing like anything Hellios had seen in his life.

"Desert Sword, introduce yourselves for our brother!"

The first member to step forward was a young man, barely sixteen from the looks of him. His uniform was simply a green body suit with a sword emblem on his right breast pocket. With eyes hungry for approval, he looked towards Hellios and boldly declared, "I am called Atar! My fire burns hotter than any sun!"

The next man stepped forward. He couldn't have been more different from his young comrade. He had a long beard, middle aged face with gut that was just beginning to take shape. He didn't appear to be pleased, "I am Djinn, and I control all non organic matter."

The next man stepped forward, though describing him as a man would be considered generous. He possessed gray skin, bat like wings on his back and what looked like external ribs around his chest,"You may call me Dahak."

Finally, the last man stepped forward. Standing eight feet tall, steel armor that was far from seamless and two trash can sized cannons resting casually on his shoulders as if they were made of paper, not high grade steel, "They call me Haoma."

"With our help brother, we can help you recover your memories," smiled the leader of Desert Sword, "and I hope that, after that, you see fit to join us."

---

"'Jack, we have a problem," Cybermancer tapped her ear, listening to the report, "According to CNN, Hellios was just spotted in Northern Iraq."

"What could he be doing there?" asked Scarab, "besides proving that we're wasting our time merely standing here!"

"That's not the only issue," Sabra stated as she rejoined the group.

"What's the issue," asked Union Jack.

"All equipment from this base has been removed," Sabra explained, "except for a single room, the one room that likely should have been destroyed."

"What are you..."

"Jack," Cybermancer interrupted, "is Chapman supposed to be sending us any reinforcements?"

"No, why?"

"Because my scanners are are detecting the HERMES teleporting signature, just outside this room!"

Union Jack barely had a moment to react before the far wall exploded outward, knocking Excalibur to their feet.

"See, brother! See! They knew the truth all along!" Aminedi snarled, "they are only here to stop you from learning the truth!"

"So I see," Excalibur felt a collective shiver of fear slide down their backs as Hellios, alongside Desert Sword, turned his gaze towards them and spat, "They won't stand in my way for long."

---

Next issue: It's a depleted Excalibur vs. Desert Sword, plus a pissed off Hellios! What is the solar powered hero's secret and what will happen when he learns the truth?