On October 17^th, 1943, Chicago opened its first subway station. The process of mining through soft, watery clay was a difficult one, but the city’s officials assured the residents it could be done. Mayor Edward Joseph Kelly himself was the one to christen the subway on North State Street near Chicago Avenue. The project was so successful that fifteen years later another subway was constructed to connect the West End of the city to the North, gaining worldwide recognition. A small landmark in the form of a stone pillar had even been erected to show where the ground was first broken in the creation of the subway.

 

For sixty years, the stone pillar had marked the location of one of Chicago’s most prestigious undertakings. However, the giant, orange behemoth held no sympathy for the city’s prosperity, or its respect for history. With one sweep of his massive leg, the giant destroyed the landmark along with a large section of the subway system.

 

“Cage, where’s Diamond Dust?” Iron Fist hollered as he ran down the street. Behind him sat the remains of the Protoclan’s warehouse facility. The Heroes For Hire had tracked the Protoclan to the building in hopes of shutting down one of their operations. After a large explosion, a gigantic orange monster had not only decimated the building, but rendered Diamond Dust unconscious as well*

 

*[Quick recap of last ish – D]

 

“Deathlok’s got her,” said Luke Cage. The original hired hero ran beside his longtime friend and teammate. “Photon and Strider are still missing though.”

 

They continued chasing the behemoth down the street. After smashing a big section of the building, the creature had leapt into the air, landing several blocks down the street. As the cliché goes, he was big and slow. Despite having thousands of pounds of muscle, he moved like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man, and wasn’t moving that fast. His orange skin resonated in the last rays of the evening sun and what appeared to be a small amount of facial hair glistened as well.

 

He wore a large red tunic of some alien design which only covered his torso. Just under his lower back, a large, cauterized stump extruded out of his body. Dried splotches of what may have been blood laced the stump.

 

The giant’s arms swung wildly, knocking over newspaper stands and fire hydrants. Massive roars bellowed from within his large form as he slowly continued his mindless rampage toward downtown.

 

Just then, another figure appeared from out of nowhere running along side the two heroes. Covered in a black bodysuit with a stylized silver ‘S’ over the left breast was the team’s resident speedster.

 

“Talking about me behind my back? Shame on you,” Strider tsked. He looked as if he was out for a light afternoon jog, as opposed to Iron Fist, who was running flat out.

 

“Shut ya mouth,” said Cage. “Go nail that thing a few thousand times or something.”

 

A look of deadly intent swept over Strider’s face. “I’ll do better than that. Ever seen a two-by-four thrown at over 700 miles per hour?” Wind whooshed passed the heroes as Strider sped away faster than they could follow.

 

“He’s not too happy,” Iron Fist commented, leaping over a fallen garbage can.

 

“You saw how messed up Lynn looked,” Cage replied. “How would you feel if Misty--”

 

SHOOM!

 

A thunderous roar overtook the heroes, but this time, it didn’t emit from the giant’s throat. This time, it was a sonic boom erupting from Strider’s body exceeding the speed of sound. Silver streaks, which had to be Strider’s vibranium gauntlets, whipped through the air, releasing a brown blur headed straight for the giant’s head.

 

Within nanoseconds, the brown blur slammed into the giant’s left eye. Blood squirted out from a hundred feet above the ground. Thick, red puddles formed in the street. The creature raised his arm up to cover the fresh wound, tilting his head back and screaming with all the power in his lungs.

 

“If you think that was bad,” Strider said, hollering over the giant’s screams, “wait until I find a shovel!”

 

The giant spotted the speedster with his remaining eye and futilely tried to smash him into the ground. Strider easily dodged the lumbering behemoth’s attack, speeding under the creature, and running circles around him in hopes of distracting him while his teammates caught up.

 

The orange giant lifted one of his massive feet and stomped it into the paved street. The impact sent a shock wave rippling across the earth, lifting Strider off his swift feet. The black clad speedster sailed through the air and crashed into a blue mail box, knocking it over.

 

“Strider!” Iron Fist shifted his direction to head toward his fallen teammate. As he approached, he could make out small streams of crackling blue energy rippling over David Erickson’s unconscious form.

 

“Hey, ugly!” Cage yelled, trying to get the attention of the furious monster. It was bad enough before, but now after Strider’s attack, the giant looked like it wanted to smash everything in its path. People would get hurt unless Cage could hold its attention.

 

Cage bent down in the middle of the street and grabbed hold of a sewer lid. The manhole cover was hefty, but in Cage’s strong fingers, it was like a Frisbee. “Jolly Orange Giant! Your mom was an orangutan!”

 

Cage’s fingers gripped the steel disc tight enough that his hand left an impression. He didn’t want to harm the giant the way Strider had, but he needed to cause it some pain at the very least. The beast turned its half-gaze to Luke Cage and the hired hero let the manhole cover fly. It whistled slightly as it cut through the air. The two-by-four Strider had launched moved much faster, but the sewer lid still had decent momentum behind it. The disc connected with the creature’s chest, bouncing off. The thick hide of the giant deadened all sound from the impact but seemingly none of the pain. Massive orange fingers gripped where the manhole cover had hit as the creature stumbled back slightly.

 

Expelling all the air from his lungs in a low growl, the giant half closed its good eye and focused it on Luke Cage.

 

Well, I got it’s attention, Cage thought.

Photon, in her energy form, blazed through the sky toward the H4H’s aircraft, still hovering above the ground on standby. She had to abandon her comlink because of the interference it had with her own powers. That had never happened before and she made a mental note to discuss it with someone when everything was over.

 

She spotted the team’s ship and swooped down through the air, harmlessly passing through a flock of birds on her way. From her high vantage she could see Deathlok approaching the ship with Diamond Dust hanging limp in his arms.

 

At the speed of light she touched down in front of the ship, meeting Deathlok’s eyes.

 

“What the hell happened?” they both asked each other at once.

 

“Take her inside the ship first so we can stabilize her,” said Deathlok, shaking his head.

 

Photon took Lynn from Deathlok’s arms and carried her above to the hovering aircraft. Deathlok quickly followed using a tether he electronically signaled to descend from the ship. On board, the two moved quickly to secure Lynn in the medical bay, attaching various monitoring devices.

 

“She’ll be okay,” said Deathlok. “Maybe not right away, but she’ll be okay. What the hell happened to you, Monica? Weren’t you up there with her when that thing appeared?”

 

“Yeah,” she responded, “I was. We both got to the top floor of the warehouse and were about to engage a ton of Protoclan troops when one of them on the far end of the room tossed a device at us. I thought it was an explosive of some kind, so I gave it an electromagnetic push…next thing I know, I’m half way across the country and you guys are fighting some giant H.R. Puffnstuff reject.”

 

Deathlok took Photon’s statement in silence. The team needed to regroup and even with the information from Photon, he was no closer to understanding the situation. He had a teammate down with possibly fatal injuries. He needed more information.

 

“I’m going to make sure Lynn is safe for further transport,” said Deathlok. “Then I’m going to see if any of the Protoclan’s computers survived. We need more information.”

 

“We need more help, Deathlok,” Photon snapped as she sat down at a communications terminal. “I’m calling in the big guns.”