3. NIGHTFALL

Silence.

The dark man’s steps, though heavy, made no sound as he approached the brightly-clothed foursome in the center of the street. They were as quiet as the on looking crowd.

He was tall – over seven feet. Thick, tar-colored tree trunks for limbs, and an axe as tall as he. His body was vaguely human, his only sharp details etched in charcoal gray – simply a disembodied shadow.

“Well? Talk to it, Reed,” Sue whispered without taking an eye of the dark man. Reed took a few cautious but confident steps. This wasn’t the first time he’d be the greeting party for a strange visitor.

“Hello,” he said. “This is the planet Earth. I am Reed Richards, and these people behind me are my family.”

The creature stopped before Reed, silent.

He continued. “Do you – understand me? Should I get a translator?”

Still. Silent.

Reed’s arm extended, much past normal lengths, and waved where the face of a man would be. Strange sensations coursed through his hand, but it remained there, inches from the darkness. The still, silent darkness.

And then there was the sound of the air splitting. There was movement. A thick, black hand gripped Reed Richards’ thin wrist tight as anything ever had. Reed shot his eyes up to look, and darkness stared back.

“Ah.”

The blunt end of the axe slammed into Reed’s body, which flew a straight line back onto the street, limbs flailing and stretching uncontrollably, dead weight. He bounced, rolled, and came to a rubbery halt. Reed didn’t move.

The family turned back from their leader’s body towards the dark man, still again. Jagged, rocky lips moved subtly.

“Suzie,” the Thing said. “Walls. Now.”

Susan willed it, and the crowds were safe – their arena made. She looked over her shoulder at her husband just for a second. His body was already retracting to normal – slowly. She turned back. Focus.

“Now – I don’t know who ya think you are, pal,” Said Ben, stomping up to the dark thing, “But in the Big Apple, ya gotta get a few things straight. One: we’re the Fantastic Four. We are this city. And two: ya hit one of us – ya get hit.” Ben reared back his massive boulder-fist.

“Those are the rules. Welcome to Earth.”

The punch was thrown. It should have collapsed him – no. It should have collapsed a building. Instead, Ben found his hand stuck to the non-flesh of the dark man’s head – hopelessly stuck, no matter how he pulled.

“Aw, c’mo—“ was all Ben managed. He was ready for a try with his free hand when a blow came down on his head. He staggered and tried to rise again, the fight not totally gone. But with another swift hit the Thing’s thick body slumped and hung from the walking shadow. It peeled Ben’s fist away and with it slammed him, without mercy, into the ground over and over, like a rag doll. The Thing rest in a crater, and the dark man turned to Susan and Johnny.

“No!” Sue said. “No. This isn’t going to happen.” The darkness began walking over in long, steady strides. “This is my family. This is our home. I have two children a block over and – you’re not going to do this.” Still walking, ignoring each of her unseen barriers, no matter how thick. They broke like brittle old glass.

Sweat was running down her forehead – Johnny saw it. Each time one of her barriers broke, it got worse for her. She couldn’t keep that and the walls for the crowd up. “Whatever it is you’re doing,” Susan said, her voice wavering, “You’re not. You’re not.”

She felt like she had the worst fever of her life. Susan had no more. Reed was slithering over in the distance, Ben was three feet deep in asphalt, and Johnny – he just stood there, staring. And the dark thing got closer and closer. Her head was pounding with each step it took.

It was still silent.

“What are you?” Sue’s voice was almost a croak. “What do you want?” It stood before her. The pressure covered her entire body, and Sue dropped to her knees. The weight was horrible – she could barely manage to look up at the darkness.

“Talk! Talk, damn it!”

No. Silence.

Johnny watched it turn to him. The monolith, the thing it sprung from – it had absorbed his fire, his light. He stared into it, and where he once had seen nothing but absence, saw his reflection, like black marble.

The Human Torch remained just Johnny. He didn’t even want to move. Sue exhaled miserably as the walls finally came down. There was a voice – loud in Johnny’s head. The dark man’s neck twitched up. Enough, Mikah.

And he rested. Ben woke, groggy and sore. Reed retained shape. Sue steadied herself. And Johnny looked to the monolith just as the sun fully set.

The world felt heavy. If they could have, people would have been sick. But they weren’t. They did nothing.

From the monolith shot six more orbs, like drops of oil in zero gravity, as perfect and black as their origin. They floated there and spun in their place. Behind them, the night sky grew even darker. The moon had just risen, and even it was slowly succumbing to the impossible shadow cast by the monolith and its offspring.

At 9:33, New York was pitch-black.

A rise had gone through the crowd. It started at the very back and worked through the middle until everyone, from child to mother to father to reporter, felt it:

Panic. They could see nothing.

So there should have been screaming, or yelling. Someone should have cried out for help, or stupidly pushed the person next to them for the temporary comfort in knowing that yes, someone else was suffering. But it was silent. No cars were crashing. No one was moving. They didn’t want to.

The panic had passed as quickly as it came. And in its place, filling their bodies through all pores, all orifices, was euphoria.

And then the lights returned.

Seven black bodies stood in the streets of confused yet happy people. The tallest, a crown-shape on his head, shook body and soul as it spoke.

“People of Earth! I am Lunn, the Moon Lord,” he said. “And, despite appearances, we may be your salvation.”

4. INTERLUDE: EARLIER

“This is Roy Duncan reporting live from the scene where, earlier this evening, a large black object landed at 53rd and 3rd. Authorities have blocked the area off, where the Fantastic Four are investigating. Here comes one of them now...Mr. Grimm! A comment, please—”

“They shouldn’t all get in Uncle Ben’s face like that,” Franklin said. “He doesn’t like it when they do that.” He sat Indian-style on the plump navy couch, placed precisely six feet from the wall-wide screen, as nearly all the screens in the Baxter Building seemed to be.

“Oh, I bet he likes the attention,” said Alicia, in her best babysitter/temporary parent tone. Franklin kept staring at the screen, an image of endless microphones and the Thing’s face presented.

“Not like that, he doesn’t. They’re like – bugs. Just buzzing around him. Uncle Ben doesn’t like that.”

“...No. No, I guess he doesn’t.” It’s amazing, Alicia realized, how well children can read people. Especially children like Franklin. She sat up, controller in hand, and held it out. “I think it’s getting a little late. Would you press the off button for me?”

“Sure, Aunt ‘Licia,” he said, taking one of her hands and guiding it. The screen flipped off. “Uncle Johnny can tell me what happened later.”

“I’m sure he will. How about you go get ready for bed while I check on your sister, okay?”

“Okay.” Calmly, obediently, Franklin went to the bathroom. Alicia could hear him brushing his teeth from there – it’s true what they say about blind people. Their senses do get better in sight’s absence. People evolve. She picked up her walking stick, stood—

“Here, Ms. Masters,” said a monotone voice. “Let me help you.”

Alicia felt the floor shift below her and immediately had a feeling motion. As disoriented as it made her, she still stepped off the moving floor and landed on her staff.

“No thank you, HERBIE,” she said. “I can get there myself.”

“Of course, Ms. Masters.”

Reed. Why couldn’t he just let people rely on themselves? Alicia was starting to understand what Susan always mentioned, at their meals together, and when they shopped. He wants to fix everything, she’d say. But people get used to the world. They adapt. Everyone except for him...

The nursery was a short walk away. The door was open, and even before she went in, Alicia heard the soft breathing of month-old lungs. She felt her way to the crib quietly, then leaned in to hear the sound – smell that fresh baby smell.

It was peaceful in the nursery. Victoria was the most well-behaved baby. Never cried, never kept Reed and Sue up...

Alicia wondered what it would be like to have a child like this. Or even one that cried, and threw fits, and kept her up at all times of night. To have one at all.

Something brushed by her finger, soft and gentle. Victoria must have been shifting in her sleep – or dreaming. Alicia stuck her finger out more and the baby wrapped her tiny little fingers around it – not with the usual tight grip, but tenderly.

Alicia could feel the even smaller pulse in each of those fingers. Their rhythm was hypnotic, and she basked in it for some time. Then came the faintest squeeze around her finger--

Alicia gasped. Jumped. She pulled away from Victoria purely out of shock. She’d never want to wake her. But, what happened...

Susan, Johnny, and Franklin were know for their beautiful blonde hair. They said that Victoria was already getting hers in. And Alicia had just seen it. The round, sleeping face and thin blonde hairs. Her delicate body: rising, falling. Her hand gripping Alicia’s finger, and the room around – for an instant she’d seen it all, every detail captured.

Not an illusion – of this she was sure. She’d had sight before, and she had again just now. But the darkness had returned, and it was comforting.

What wasn’t? These children. These...miracle-children. They were as scary sometimes as they were adorable. She’d have to tell Reed, when they got back.

The wonders of the Fantastic Palace never ceased to amaze her.

Alicia pulled the cover over Victoria’s slumbering body and went to see Franklin – already in his bed, a bunch of beeping noises coming from where he sat under the covers.

“Franklin? Watcha’ doing?”

He didn’t look up when he answered. “Just finding a place to save my game. It’ll just be a minute...”

“Oh yeah?” Alicia came over to sit down beside him on the bed. “What’re you playing?”

“Minimon,” he said, as if the answer were scripted for him. “It’s great – you collect all kinds of little monsters, and you get them to fight each other, and then they – they change to get better...I forget what word Dad uses for it. He told me, though.”

“’Change to get better’? Is it – you mean, they evolve?”

“Yeah! That’s the word. Evolve. It’s so cool, and—“

The ringing music from Franklin’s game stopped. They both felt it: the air, so dense. Then the lights went out.

5. THE OVERLORDS

“In the beginning, there light -- endless, burning light. All was bare, all was white. And then, as it always will, the light began to fade.

“In those places where the light faded there was darkness. The first two blotches were my mate and queen, Wastha. Our first instinct, like any creature, was to mate. And we did. Oh, we did. And with our love-making came our dark children, each a prince or princess to creation. Where they fell in battle, space was created, blocking out the old light.

"The mortals that once worshipped us are now gone, and only we seven are left among the pantheon. And so we have ventured here to this space...to Earth. We make you a proposition:

“Worship us. Follow our word and decrees. Those who do so will be rewarded. Those who do not—“

“—Will be beaten? Attacked? Destroyed?” Reed’s voice came loud and strong, interrupting the dark king’s speech. The latter stood first among his six companions – four males and two females – circling the black monolith. Reed stood with his own family before them on the street. And as ever, the crowds were at the sides, watching and listening.

The one called Junn Moon-Lord didn’t hesitate. “We bear no ill will towards non-believers. Yours was an unfortunate misunderstanding. When our altar first fell, we remained within it and gathereded all the information we could on your society. Until the moon came, we had only strength enough to send out one." Junn motioned towards the axe-bearing shade to his right. "Mikah thought you were attacking him. He is our Warrior Prince.”

“Attacking him? Attackin’ him?!” The Thing stepped forward, almost trembling either from fear or exhaustion. Sue held his thick arm, and Reed stretched his hand.

“Ben—“

“He took us apart, for God’s sake!”

“We’ve had bad first impressions before,” Johnny said, as high as any on the feeling he got from the air. “You remember that guy? Silver...Skater?” Ben shot him a jagged look. “Oh, no, wait – Silver Surfer! And, what, he’s a hero now?” And with that Johnny had a smile and chuckle. The Thing had another growl.

“Ben, just wait,” Reed said, and he did. He turned back to Junn. “Now, if what you’re saying is true – then yes, we’ve gotten off to a bad start. But...I don’t believe I understand exactly what it is you’re doing here.”

“We are looking for followers,” the dark king said. “Believers in our cause.”

“Which is--?”

“Freedom of the spirit! Truth of the self! Enjoyment of life! All things any good creature would want, yes?” He faced the crowd as he announced this, and at least half of them made some noise back – mostly in cheering. “We seek worship, and in return, we offer these things and more. All it takes is for you to believe.”

Reed stared at them for a moment: seven dark gods in the middle of New York City. Someone in the crowd rather lewdly asked – or rather yelled, stupidly – why the Fantastic Four would want to keep people from freedom of the self. He ignored it – but he couldn’t ignore the tension in the crowd. That feeling in the air, the exhilaration so heavy that if felt weightless at the same time. They already had enemies for crashing their monolith there – but they also already had believers.

He looked back to Sue, still holding Ben. She eyed him back, assuring him that whatever he thought right was right.

“There has been enough for one day, do you not think? Enough excitement and enough talking. Let us go and rebuild our kingdom above your moon, and we shall speak another day.” Moonlord stared into Reed, knowing he had little choice but to say:

“Fine. You go ahead and do that. But we’ll be in contact with you.”

“And let us know if you need any help,” Johnny added.

“This we will do, Illuminator,” Junn said. With a look, he and his pantheon rose to the air. “People! Before we take our leave, let you know this: all you must do is believe. Believe – pray to the dark altar, and look to the moon where we rule. This is our only decree – believe!”

They began to ascend, looking to the heavens as they did so. Ben stepped out of Sue’s light hold and shook his fist up at them. “Hey! Ya can’t leave yer damn trash in the middle’a—“

But they were gone. And the weighty elation that had fallen over New York was lifted.

“Reed,” Sue said, walking over to her husband. “Reed, I don’t like them. No matter what they say. What that one, Mikah – what he did to us—“

“Oh, come on, guys!” Johnny was close to flaming on. “People make mistakes.”

“What about gods, Johnny?” Sue snapped. “Do they make mistakes?” Her brother frowned back but said nothing.

“I...I don’t like them either, Susan,” Reed said as he wiped his bruised forehead. “But that’s hardly the case. Aside from starting a fight with Ben and I and leaving their altar on the street – and being rather mysterious, they’ve done nothing wrong.”

Sue stood directly before him, very close. “But what they did—“

“What they did wuz’ kick our asses.” Ben folded his arms. “I don’t care how ya look at it – that Mikah loser kicked our asses. Look around!”

People had already jumped the blockades and rushed to the altar. There they kneeled, touched, and looked to the sky. Others looked on in disgust, still others with no difference.

Ben stared at the monolith. “We lost today. We’re the Fan-freakin’-tastic Four. We don’t lose – but we did. An’ that’s...I dunno. Scary.”

There was no answer any of them could give. Not Reed, not anyone. Johnny spoke.

“Look, I’m going home. I’m – feeling kinda – y’know. After the altar took my flame?”

Reed offered, “I’ll run some tests, if you like—“

“No, no. Just – I’m just gonna go home and get some sleep. I’ll see you all in the morning.”

Flaming, he joined the sky and left them – tired and battered. Ben cleared his throat.

“He says he feels weird, then flies home? Somethin’ wrong with that kid.”

”The tabloids have been all over Johnny even more than usual...” said Sue. "Him and that actress -- Eliza." There was a beat before Reed spoke.

“I’ll call the Fantasticar.” Sue and Ben agreed silently and waited as he pressed the hidden button on his belt. Reed looked up at the moon, bright and creamy among the sharp stars. “Let’s – keep our eye on the moon.”

They did the whole way home.

The family slept when they arrived, after finding their youngest both in bed and Alicia in one of the many guest rooms. When they checked on Johnny, his door was locked, and they assumed he was asleep -- rekindling his fire.

But while they rested, Johnny Storm sat on his bed fully awake, staring out the window at the moon until it set that morning. It never occurred to him to sleep.

 

Fantastic Four #29 by Will Short

Yes, that's right. Not 'Will Short and' which these days is considered a miracle, but being paired with other members of our esteemed alumni hasn't detracted from his solo skills. It may even have enchanced them.

I'm so glad you think so, David. When I started writing the issues, I noticed that there was an...empty feeling up at the top, and I realized it was because it was just "Written by Will Short", at which point I began to question whether I could still write on my own, blah blah blah.

This issue works because it doesn't try too hard. It's a very interesting premise, and very X-File esque, with the usual FF twist and Will seems to have the characters down pretty well...

I was hoping to avoid a "it's this writer's first issue, let's make it like it's the SERIES first issue" feel, which hopefully made it seem like I wasn't sweating blood and tears over the thing. The characters nearly wrote themselves on the page, and I'm getting more comfortable with them all the time.

...but the real reason I like this?

It's got crop circles in it.

It's a truly clever plot idea, having Reed Richards investigate crop circles and frankly why the hell not? However I suspect that Will has been inspired in part by the imminent release of Signs, which isn't a bad thing. In fact there was a time when someone propped an Unbreakable series to me, but the writer never followed it up.

Well -- at least someone noticed and liked it :) You say, "Why the Hell not?" and I echo the statement. That's not the last you'll see of crop circles. And, while it may look like I got the idea from "Signs", crop circles were actually the first idea I got when I was coming up with my FF run, and I hadn't even seen commercials for that.

Weak point of it? No real mention of baby Victoria, but other than that there are no significant issues here at all, so congrats Will, you are this week's Editor's Choice.

Yeah, I had two choices -- either drop Victoria in there for little to no reason at all besides reminding us she exists, or just mention her in likely places for the same reason. The latter seemed more realistic, but I probably could have worked her in a little more. Don't worry, though, she shows up in #30. Thanks a lot, David -- here's hoping I can keep earning these! Mo_o (yes: Mo_o) says:

FANTASTIC FOUR#29 by Will Short
"Legends of A Dead Moon"
5/5 (Must Read)

Ah, nuts, does it get any better than this? The score says it all, and if I continue writing the review for this issue, I might go insane and start buying FF books again. Oh, wait I might, that 9-cent issue isn't too far off...

Anyway, next issue: FF vs. Loch Ness?

Nah.

Five out of five? From the writer of Moon Man? Thank you, Mo_o. Thank you very much. And I suggest to anyone to pick up Waid and Wieringo's 9-cent first issue. How can you not?

And as to your last question: you should have seen the original draft for #31, which I wrote before you said this. Wow. As the future stands...no comment :)

Now we hear from Brad Horton. Brad writes:

This, like DD #2, has sparked interest in me for the FF. (I just realized all the alliteration in Marvel. Damn, that's a lot of alliteration.) The monolith thing is intriuging. Will has proven that the FF can be cool if written right. I had no love for the FF to start out with, and after watching the horrendous movie by Roger Corman, they were a lost cause to me. So, kudos to Will! You made me tolerate the FF! Woo!

Hell, thanks Brad! As I said at the end ot he first issue, I really don't see why FF have to be the "tolerated" team -- they should be embraced. Hopefully I can make you more than just tolerate as my run goes on.

Cory Wiegel says:

Heh, I gotta follow the lead of the other readers out there. Will's definately sparked up some interest in the FF, and made them a little more likeable in my opinion. And to think, I was telling Dino I'd rather see Avengers or Defenders. Heh, which I still wanna see... but y'know. Reed doesn't sound stupid and corny, either. Which is cool.

<(''<)<(''<)<(''<) and a <(' out of <(''<)<(''<)<(''<)<(''<)<(''<) Kirbys.

Don't worry, Cory, we should have some AVENGERS for you very soon, and DEFENDERS not long after that. As for your FF comments, all I can say again is "thanks" and keep reading if you're only luke warm about it.

Incidentally, I think my other release that week (MARVEL FANFARE #24, for you cheap plug-lovers) was better than my first FF issue, mostly because it's a self-contained story whereas FF #29 is a short "to be continued" story. I suggest people go read that -- perhaps I'll get some more than "tolerable" or "a little more likeable" :)

Three out of five isn't too bad though. Nice system -- play Kirby or Smash Bros. much, or just liked the image? Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing, Cory!

Dino Pollard writes:

I've never liked the Fantastic Four. To me, the FF was always the stagnant book on the market. It never changed at all, because whenever it did, the fans bitched, so it went back to stagnation. Lee and Kirby did revolutionary stuff with the FF back in the day, this is true, and I respect them for that. But, the problem is that they did their job too well. Because pretty much all the creators who followed them just turned the FF into a nostalgia book. To me, it seemed like, what's the point of still publishing this book if nothing ever changes? You might as well just save money and reprint the back issues over and over again.

Will's first issue is good, and it proves that the FF can be interesting. I know Will, and I know he's a great writer. He made me a fan of the Defenders. The friggin' Defenders. That's something no writer has been able to do (I tried reading Busiek's Defenders and dropped it after the third issue). He's breathed new life into the Avengers. I hope he can work that same magic with the FF and turn it into something more than a nostalgia book. Because if Will can't do it, then I know that there's no hope for the FF.

Sorry to hear you fall into the group of all too many people who don't really dig the FF. But, at leas the way you're talking, maybe I can have a convert -- and I'm trying to make this anything but a nostalgia trip. Maybe a little echo here and there, but that's about it. Thanks for the praise for both here and my other titles, Dino. Hopefully my view of the book will pull you and others into these great characters.

(And a note: I love the Defenders, but I dropped Busiek/Larsen's take on them as well. Not a good run to judge the team on at all, in my opinion.)

Keep the letters coming, everyone. Next issue, business as usual is no longer usual for the FF as we see the ramifications of the Overlords' presence for both the team and the world.

-Will Short
Saturday, July 6, 2002
2:05 AM