February '08 # 2

STARRING:

Commander Marvel

Iron Man

ALSO FEATURING:

Loki

The Jötunn

 

New York, New York

Janet Van Dyne hadn’t expected to land in the middle of a firefight when she agreed to come to Stark Enterprises a day early. She had been resting comfortably in her Miami apartment, enjoying a soothing bathe with one of her former coworkers from the modeling agency when the phone rang. She almost hadn’t answered it, but after the third consecutive call she decided that it must have been important.

“Janet?” someone near her screamed. She didn’t outright recognize the voice and was disoriented, forgetting for a moment where she was. “Can you hear me? Janet?”

She remembered slipping out the hot tub, much to the dismay of the man sharing it with her, and traipsed across the tiled floor to pick up the receiver. Before she hung up, Tony Stark had convinced her that the timetable for their research needed to be moved up as soon as possible and that the next flight to New York City had a seat reserved for her.

“Janet! Stay with me here!”

The male model didn’t particularly enjoy being thrown out of her apartment, but the flight was set to leave in only a few hours and she had to pack. She remembered him from her last shoot in Prague, her last shoot anywhere. The money that had poured in from modeling around the world had helped to pay her way through school, along with the added benefit of a little adventure and excitement. She had never been one to play off her natural good looks, but when the chance to dine on the French Riviera, and get paid for it, came along how could she refuse? Two doctorate degrees didn’t pay for themselves after all.

“Oh, God…please… Janet!”

After making a quick trip to her research office in Miami before hopping on the flight, to retrieve a canister filled with Pym’s inert particles, Janet had spent most of the plane ride going over her notes. Henry Pym had been the project leader at the lab in Miami until Stark had thrown so much money at him that he left immediately, much like she was doing. He had left in such a hurry that he didn’t even bother disposing of his failed experiments, something that Janet was very happy about. She had only been his assistant, but she had been fascinated by his attempts to control cellular growth at an atomic level. The research had shown early promise, the reason why Stark had recruited him in the first place.

But then Henry had some sort of falling out with Stark. Janet had been on the receiving end of Pym’s attitude more than once, so she understood completely how he could have simply walked out on Stark on a whim. If she had known what an arrogant jerk Henry really was, she never would have slept with him.

“This is insane. I can’t… What’s happening? Janet, say something?”

The helicopter waiting for her at the airport upon landing was a surprise. Stark hadn’t been kidding about starting as soon as possible. He didn’t even give her time to breath with the whirlwind manner that he did business. A part of her admired that, however. He looked to be at least ten years her elder, but as with most men age only complimented him.

No sooner had the helicopter landed on Stark Tower than some crazed costumed freak had attacked them. She had only caught a glimpse of his blonde hair and glowing wristbands, but judging from the way he was tussling with another flying figure above their heads, he looked to be serious. Deadly serious.

“Snap out of it!”

Janet shook her head, focusing on the voice that had been yelling at her. It seemed like forever since a stray blast from the quarreling pair had indirectly caused the canister she had been carrying to unseal. The particles inside were inert, dead, useless, but for some reason she felt someone shaking her.

She opened her eyes and looked down at the canister lying beside her. There was a soft golden glow emanating from within it, a glow that didn’t make any sense. The lid had been cracked open and beside the canister was something that seemed out of place. A stone, worn from what could have been years of erosion, and nearly as large as the open canister, was on its side touching the edge of the metal container. The strange thing was that it shared the some dull golden hue as the inside of the canister.

“Janet!”

She looked up into the face of Bill Foster, a man she had met only minutes ago. He looked worried, frightened. He was holding her by her shoulders and shaking her slightly, attempting to retain her attention.

“What happened?” she managed to finally say.

“Some lunatic jumped us,” Bill explained. “We need to get into the building. Stark sent his chief of security to deal with it and we’re only going to be…Janet? What’s wrong?”

She tried to pull away from Bill’s grasp, which was tightening for some reason. “You don’t have to hold me so tightly,” she told him as she swatted at his fingers.

His fingers. She looked at her left shoulder where Bill had his hand and felt her eyes open wide. She quickly wondered if she had taken a bump to the head during the attack as she watched in amazement as Bill’s hand began to grow.

“What are you talking…” Bill paused as he pulled his hands away from Janet, looking her up and down with a curious gaze. “My God. You’re shrinking.”

Marvel 2000 Proudly Presents...

# 2- "The End of Days"
Part Two

Written by D. Golightly

“Youse lousy pigs!”

A slender, somewhat short black woman shook her head and let out a small sigh. The insulting fat Italian man handcuffed to her wrist was tugging at the chain that connected them like a mother and child, which was of course useless. She instantly regretted the family analogy, hating the very idea of sharing anything with this man, even at a genetic level.

“Calm down, Sal, or I’ll put in a call to Boss Marcone,” she said. “That would solve both our problems.”

“You wouldn’t!”

She locked eyes with the goomba, doing her best to block out the sweaty stench of his body odor. If her job didn’t force her into such close proximity with the creep should would just as soon leave him where she found him, curled up under a bedspring mattress in a cheap, ratty hotel.

“Wouldn’t I?” she replied. “I’m sure he’d like to know where his biggest fink is being hidden through witness protection.”

Sal’s face lit up with fear and apprehension. “You’re bluffing,” he muttered. “Your badge—”

“Push me again and I may have just forgotten it at home. Get in the car.” She opened the back door to a sleek, navy blue sedan and deposited Sal inside after shoving his head down. Once he plopped down on the upholster she shook out a keychain from her trenchcoat pocket and undid the handcuffs. “Keep your mouth shut all the way to Delaware or you’ll wish Marcone had found you first.”

“Delaware?” Sal exclaimed as he rubbed his wrists. “You’re sticking me in Delaware? But…there’s nothing there!”

“That’s the point.”

She slammed the back door and opened the front passenger one, slipping in beside her friend and partner behind the wheel. She let out another sigh and motioned for him to turn the engine over so they could get on their way. The car sprung to life and shot out into the busy New York traffic, making its way for the interstate highway.

“Don’t let him get to you, Mon,” the driver, a stylish, brown-haired man, told her. “These dirtbags all spit on us Marshals.”

“Being a U.S. Marshal doesn’t mean we politely wash our faces when they’re spit on, Abe,” Monica Rambeau shot back. “It means we spit back, especially with garbage like Guido back here.”

“Hey…” Sal said from the back seat, although the muster had been sucked from his voice.

“Not really in the job description,” Abe said. “We just track down fugitives and plug ‘em back into the system.”

“So he can live on our tax dollars just because he might have seen something he shouldn’t have.” Monica crossed her arms over her chest while shaking her head slightly. “This guy didn’t even guarantee he could put Marcone at the scene! I read the file, did you? His sheet it longer than this car. No way we can actually trust what comes out of his mouth. You ask me this is a waste of time, sticking him in a safe house.”

“You know that ain’t our call,” Abe added. “Marshals aren’t proactive like that.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe they should be.”

“How’d you find this guy so fast, anyway?” Abe turned the wheel, rounding the corner to head through downtown. He watched Monica out of the corner of his eye, trying to gauge her reaction to his question. “We had, like, thirty places on the list of possible locations and you ran them down in under an hour.”

She shrugged. “Just lucky I guess.”

“Luck doesn’t have nothing to do with it. C’mon. I’m your partner, so spill. How’d you squeeze twelve hours of leg work into forty-five minutes?”

Monica opened her mouth but she didn’t have time to think up a lie. A shadow swept over the windshield of the car, making her catch her breath between her lips. An impossible sight transpired directly in front of them, something that couldn’t exist, and yet, there it was, heading straight for them.

Abe slammed on the breaks as a gut reaction to the weird scene, eliciting high-pitched screeches from the tires. Monica braced her hands against the dashboard to keep from slamming into it and her seatbelt tightened over her shoulder. Just as the car came to a full stop, the impossible crashed into the hood of the car. The windshield buckled inward but didn’t shatter, leaving spider web cracking brimming out from the point of impact.

“Holy shit,” Abe said under his breath as he looked at Monica, hoping for some sort of explanation.

U.S. Marshal Monica Rambeau just slowly shook her head in amazement at the sight of a man dressed in a tight red and black outfit lying inside their engine block. His arm stirred, pulling her eyes to the gold, softly glowing bracelet around his wrist. He sat up, and without saying a word, jumped into the sky and kept going. To her disbelief, the man flew back into the air under his own power and was nearly out of their sight within a heartbeat.

“Nothing holy about that,” Monica responded as she watched, stunned.

“Fall down, already!”

Marvel feigned to one side and then rolled to the other, flying gracefully through the air as he dodged both Iron Man’s ranged attacks and his commands to yield. After peeling himself out of the car he slammed into, Marvel had fearlessly flown back to his opponent. With his speed he was back to the fight in a heartbeat, surprising the armored attacker. The late afternoon sun berated them both, often getting in their eye line as they circled each other high above New York City.

Iron Man made ready to repeat his statement, along with his volley of repulsor rays, but found that evasive maneuvers had become necessary instead. The golden wristbands that Marvel wore suddenly flashed to life, and Iron Man barely managed to dodge a streak of white hot energy that rocketed out of Marvel’s arms. If not for his onboard targeting computers, he would have a much harder time of avoiding being hit for so long.

Even inside his armor, he was winded. Marvel seemed at home in the air, like he had been born to fly. Iron Man didn’t have the precise control over his velocity that Marvel seemed to, even though his patented antigravity engine made the act of flying as simple as flipping a switch. It had taken his all to try and avoid being taken down by the mysterious intruder, and he knew that he couldn’t keep it up forever.

“Every second you waste here is another second closer to all our deaths!” Marvel hollered at him as he swung up high into the air. The backdrop of their fight, New York City, already had a few chunks taken out of the sides of buildings, but Marvel fired off another blast anyway. It scorched the edge of Stark Tower as Iron Man ignited his boot jets and pulled back out of the way. “I need to speak with Anthony Stark now!”

“Like I told you,” Iron Man replied, “he’s busy. Why don’t you try—”

“We don’t have time for your excuses!”

Marvel rounded out his flight pattern and swung beneath Iron Man once passed the apex, rocketing toward him with fierce speed. Iron Man managed to aim his red gauntlets at the supposed Marvel, filtering power out from the same antigravity engine that allowed him to hover into his repulsor batteries, but he never got a chance to discharge the blast. Marvel tackled him around the waste in midair, forcing him back. He was in complete control of their trajectory, and he chose to use that control to his advantage. Proximity alarms blared inside Iron Man’s helmet, but despite firing his retrorockets there was nothing he could do to stop Commander Marvel from slamming them into the side of Stark Tower.

Iron Man heard a section of the building’s infrastructure buckle under the pressure once his own body pierced it. If not for the reinforced titanium mesh that composed the metallic skin beneath his armor, the shock of hitting something at such a speed surely would have crippled him. Even still, he felt the impact up his spine, sending a quick shudder through his entire nervous system.

“You’re insane,” he said while grappling with Marvel, who was floating freely just in front of him. Bring knocked into the building, which had blasted away chunks of glass and concrete, had disoriented him slightly.

“Stark is the crazy one,” Marvel retorted with a gruff expulsion of air. “Unless I stop him he’s going to awaken an evil that this world will not survive.”

“Uh huh. Sure. Because randomly attacking people means you’re sincere.”

The central lens encased in Iron Man’s chest suddenly flashed to life. A higher concentrated repulsor ray that rode only one wavelength of radiation as opposed to the two that his gauntlet repulsors emitted, dubbed a ‘uni-beam,’ erupted out in an explosion of light and energy. At first the point-blank blast washed over Marvel, staggering him in midair. A bead of sweat formed on Iron Man’s brow beneath his helmet, wondering if even his most powerful weapon would have absolute zero effect on the madman, but after a moment of pure, unbridled punishment, Marvel caved and was thrown back.

Iron Man closed the uni-beam lens and let out the breath he had been holding. His suit was dented but the damage report scrolling across his HUD told him it was mostly superficial. One of his gyroscopes was slightly calibrated incorrectly from the force of being pushed through a support beam, but otherwise his systems were nominal.

It was his turn to peel himself out of something as he grabbed onto the edges of the vertical crater he had helped create, hoisting himself into the open air where his antigravity engine took over. His boot jets ignited once more, helping him maintain his balance. Before chasing off after Marvel, though, he remembered something that had caught his eye before the fight had started.

The stone orb. Marvel had brought an identical one with him here for some reason. It appeared to be exactly the same as the one Bill Foster had been instructed to study. Where had it gotten to, and why did Marvel have it? For a moment he pondered if there was a connection between the stones and Marvel’s intrusion on Stark Tower, but an unusual sight caught his attention before he could dwell on the idea for too long.

The man he recognized as Bill Foster, a man of average height and build, had magically grown to be at least twenty feet tall. Iron Man blinked, unsure of what to surmise from the information his corneas were transmitting to his brain. It was impossible, but so was a man flying under his own power, and he had witnessed that firsthand.

What was even more inconceivable about seeing a giant version of the scientist was that he was still growing. Between the time it took for Iron Man to conceive of the notion and to then process the idea, Bill had sprouted up another three inches.

“What in the hell is happening to me?” Bill screamed. He stared into his open hands, which were now large enough to palm a car. He had shirked off his lab coat, leaving just his tan slacks and an oxford covering him, which for some reason weren’t tearing away. The apparel seemed to increase in volume as he did, baffling him even further. “Janet…where’s Janet?”

Iron Man scanned the rooftop but saw no sign of Janet van Dyne. He hoped that she had been smart enough to duck into the stairwell once the fight had started, but all he noticed was the open canister lying on the ground that she had transported on the helicopter. Beside it lay the duplicate stone that he had knocked away from Marvel, and both were eerily glowing with a soft radiance.

An alarm blared on Iron Man’s HUD, but by the time he realized what it indicated, Marvel had flanked him and unleashed a torrent of energy that sent him spiraling away. “Your attention is best spent on the fight,” the airborne Marvel stated. His bracelets wafted a yellow trail of light particles, left over from the manipulated energy he had expended.

The Commander now looked over the enlarged scientist himself, tilting his head in contemplation of the odd sight. He dismissed it, citing no reason to get involved upon seeing his stone on the roof. He swooped down on top of Stark Tower, letting his feet touch the surface, and walked quickly over to the item he had dropped. The manacles around his wrist matched the resonance of the orb as he approached, making him pause before picking it up.

“What did you do to me?” the lumbering voice of Bill Foster asked as Marvel approached.

Marvel shot him a glance and then returned his eyes to the stone, examining it for any cracks that may have occurred from the drop. “Answer me!” Bill roared, but Marvel didn’t even turn his head this time.

Bill Foster was a man of science, a man that preferred reason over violence. Logic and rational thinking could solve any problem. No matter the situation, there would always be a processed explanation, even for the fantastic. Two and two always added to four, regardless of the circumstances.

So, he surprised himself when instead of calmly and rationally looking at his predicament objectively, he slammed his palm down onto Marvel’s head, flattening him out like a bug.

Bill pulled his enlarged hand away, stunned at the sight of Marvel lying flat on his back, pushed down into a freshly made dent in the roof. The otherwise pristine rooftop now had a crater embedded in it, with the aggressive Commander Marvel at the center. “Whoa,” Bill said as he looked back and forth between his hand and Marvel. “I…whoa…”

Marvel shot up out of the crater in a flash, striking just under Bill’s chin with a solid uppercut. Bill felt his teeth clack together from the hit as he tumbled back over his own feet, tripping. Standing at least twenty-five feet tall, he crashed down in a heap with his now massive bulk shaking the rooftop once he fell. A pain stabbed him in his side, and he realized that one of his ribs had cracked under the pressure of his own weight.

“How many of you do I have to knock down before you give up?” Marvel demanded, although his comment fell on deaf ears. Bill had passed out from both the pain in his side, and the shock to his system.

He bent down to pick up the dropped stone once more, cradling it in his hands. He was determined to get inside the building and find the famous Tony Stark. He doubted that the man would listen to him reasonably at this point, given the state of unrest he had caused. But that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to Marvel at this point was collecting the other stones before someone else.

He pulled back his fist, ready to knock in the doorway to the stairwell that would lead him to the lower floors of Stark Tower. As his tightened fist cocked, he heard a tiny whirring noise that caught his attention and seemed out of place somehow. The noise was quickly growing, becoming more and more irritating. He paused, wondering where the noise could possibly be coming from. It sounded so close, but he couldn’t see anything nearby that might be the source.

What had started as a low-pitched humming suddenly blared into a full-blown siren that nearly ruptured his eardrum. He threw his head back and gripped the side of his head that the noise seemed to be on, gritting his teeth from the harsh noise that assaulted him. He stumbled back, disoriented and confused as to what was happening to him. He looked all around the roof, but could see no one else other than the unconscious enlarged Bill Foster.

He felt a sudden tap on his right shoulder and turned. “Hey, blondie,” Iron Man said. “Fight’s over.”

Taking advantage of the disoriented Commander Marvel, the armored employee of Stark Enterprises landed a punch square on his jaw, knocking him out flat. Iron Man wasn’t sure that he would have been able to land the hit without that weird buzzing noise as a distraction, or if it would have done anything without the augmented strength the servos in his armor granted. The rounded stone orb Marvel was clutching rolled out of his arm, lying beside him on the roof. Iron Man stepped forward to retrieve it, but the sudden quietness caught his attention. The noise that had been disrupting Marvel’s attention so much had ceased.

He looked over the roof again, but this time with sensors instead of eyes. He chided himself for not thinking that something incredible could have happened to Janet the way Bill had been affected. The stones were strange enough, having simply defied all the tests they had been run through. Furthermore, Bill was now proof that they contained some kind of untapped potential, and it was sophomoric for Iron Man not to think that Janet had been unaffected by its presence as well. Like Bill, she had been at ground zero when both the stone and the canister had been struck.

The canister. Iron Man pulled in a deep breath, realizing exactly what had happened. He tossed a quick look at Bill, who was now starting to move, and began to worry. He scrolled through the visual options on his HUD, adjusting the magnification in his visor. He fervently swept his zoomed gaze across the roof, praying he wasn’t too late. When that yielded no results he swore and switched to an infrared setting.

There, only a few feet away from his right foot, he saw an anomaly. A small blip that was moving just barely enough for him to take notice. The stairwell door burst open and someone called to him, asking what was happening and if he needed help. He recognized the voice as one of the lab technicians and replied, “Stay back, Eric! Get back inside and don’t let any personnel up here. Call the police, tell them everything is under control.”

The startled employee nodded slowly as his eyes looked around, amazed at the scene of the struggle. He slowly nodded and shut the door as Iron Man leaned down and scooped up the tiny red thing that his visor had registered.

By magnifying his ocular lenses even more, Iron Man could finally make out the tiny, frail form of an exhausted Janet van Dyne. She was breathing heavily and looked ready to pass out. There was a warm glow surrounding her, and although she looked horrified at her predicament, she appeared to be fine. He held her in his own armored palm, which was relatable to a football field as far as she was concerned. He heard Bill roll onto his side and groan, prompting him to stand back up.

“Sweet Moses,” Iron Man muttered. “Things are getting out of hand.”

A brilliant red glare burst from somewhere behind him. It startled him enough that he nearly tilted his hand, which would have sent Janet’s miniscule form flying away. He quickly flipped his visor back to its standard setting and hefted his other arm to block the light. “Oh, great,” he said upon seeing a pair of floating figures come out of the glare. “Just what we need. More flying weirdoes.”

The first of the pair, who was slightly closer in the air to the roof, was garbed in a flowing red cape that just barely covered a striking bronze chest plate. A helmet covered much of his face, complete with a red plume at the top that made him look like an ancient gladiator. Crimson energy boiled off of his body, although Iron Man made note that it was beginning to die off, a sign which he hoped meant there were no hostile intentions.

The second person was a woman, and in place of her companion’s red aura was a golden one that seemed to not only surround her, but permeate through her. Whereas he obviously hovered under sheer will, she looked to belong in the sky as much as the rays of the sun itself. Her radiance dimmed, but remained constant as if waiting for the red caped man to give the order to attack.

Iron Man raised his gauntlet in preparation to pick up the fight anew, but the warrior in the red cloak shook his head. “Your strength is best used elsewhere,” the warrior said. “My harbinger and I should have prepared you earlier, but as the bullheaded Marvel pointed out, time is short.”

The caped man gently touched down to the roof in front of Iron Man, while the woman remained floating in the air above them all. She kept one eye on the fallen Commander Marvel and slowly opened and closed her fist several times while she waited.

“Time is short until what?” Iron Man demanded to know. His irritation was beginning to get the best of him; reasonably so.

“The end of days,” the crimson warrior replied almost casually. “Some call it Armageddon, others call it the apocalypse. But according to the never-ending cycle of the gods this silent war involves, it is known…as Ragnarok.”

Somewhere in the Artic Circle

“And why would we help you, the one treacherous member of that infernal city that sought to dispose of our kind?”

The question had been asked by a creature that science denied, an ethereal spirit encased in a body formed from the frozen landscape of the artic. It had been the first to form of many, the largest of the banished Frost Giants that the dark sorcerer Loki had summoned to the Earth realm. Icicles hung on the words spoken, adding a dash of cold hostility to the already thick tension between the parties.

Loki pulled his purple robe tighter, trying to keep out the harsh winds of the artic, before clearing his throat and saying, “Because your strength is unparallel. Because I sympathize with your expulsion from heaven. Because I have the power, and the opportunity, to grant you access to Lord Odin himself so you may pay him back from what he did to you.”

The ten Jötunn collectively laughed at the comparatively feeble Loki, reasoning that his size was in direct correlation to his ability. While the vessels they wore on Earth were impressive, standing a hundred feet each, they were the normal size for a breed of their ilk.

“Power, you say?” the lead Giant continued. “What power could one such as you offer to the Jötunn that might persuade us?”

The twirling stone orbs began circling around Loki once more. He now had three of the original six stones, thus placing him at the halfway point of his plan. “Do you recognize these? Perhaps not. But inside this brittle stone rests the power of the universe, and when I gather the other three I will be able to open them and retrieve the gems inside.”

“Gems?” The Frost Giant scoffed, the act of which broke away chunks of ice from his chest. “What need have we for precious stones?”

“Oh, these are no mere gems. They possess infinite power, the power I will use to end the insanity that is Ragnarok, freeing all of us from our trapped fates.”

At that remark, the Jötunn ceased their laughter. They knew the weight of the words Loki said, which were heavy enough to not only gain their interest, but cause them alarm.

“Power you may have…but what of opportunity?”

“Ah, yes,” Loki said. “The opportunity has been presented before me by several unknowing individuals that haven’t the slightest idea of what they have stumbled upon. They have even gathered the rest of my sought treasures for me, bringing them to a place called New York. Help me destroy them and I swear I will give you the retribution against Odin you deserve!”

The Jötunn stood to his full height, turning his massive head composed of ice toward one of his brethren, silently looking for comment. A simple nod was all he received, suggesting they were all in agreement. “Very well,” the Jötunn finally replied. “Tell us what we must do. We pledge our strength to you, Lord Loki.”

Loki smiled and rubbed his hands together. It was the first time he had been called Lord, and if his plan reached fruition, it would not be the last…

MAIL CALL

Possibly one of my favorite heroines of all time is Monica Rambeau. I’ve written her in several instances and she always remains fresh to me. I’m not entirely sure why…perhaps it’s because she’s insanely powerful, a former leader of the Avengers, or even just that I never felt she was given her due at Marvel.

Oh, sure, she had a limited series here and there. Guest appearances and back-up features. Background support, reserve status, blah blah blah. But that poor girl just couldn’t hang on to a name to save her life! Captain Marvel, Photon, Pulsar, and probably three or four that I’ve forgotten. Who’s to blame? Genis-Vel, the functionally retarded son of a legendary hero. Mostly, anyway.

So, why then am I featuring her alongside my re-imagined Marvel? If I’m bitter over their connection in the first place, why place them together and then write this little entry bitching about it? That’s a good question; one Doc Samson would have a blast with, I’m sure.

This book is all about the fresh start. The redo. The take-back. The reset button. I’m taking shit that happened in the real books and making it my own, starting from the beginning. That means I get to make right (in my eyes, at least) what Marvel got wrong. Monica is a rich, deserving character that should have been on par with Wonder Woman and Ms. Marvel. Instead, she kept getting pushed around and held back. Maybe I’m exaggerating it too much, but if you think so…send me a letter and try to convince me I’m wrong. And, speaking of letters (how’s that for a transition!) we have a bit of feedback to go over!

From Jake Spade, a relatively new guy on the fanfic scene who jumped straight into the fire by forming his own site right out of the gate.

Hey Dave,

First off I want you to know that I'm not emailing you to kiss your ass or anything else. You asked for someone to give you the courtesy of a review and that is what I'm doing. The reality is that I have nothing bad to say. In reading issue #1, I felt it was best to go back and re-read issue #0 again. With the momentum going from 0 to 1, I saw the grandeur of the epic storytelling that I love. I can tell that this isn't going to be a shitty rehash of the Ultimates. I wouldn't expect anything that tripe from you, though. Your choices in characters so far are intriguing. Commander Marvel is key. Your version of Loki seems more intelligent than the Marvel Universe's. Tony Stark seems like Tony Stark which isn't a bad thing. I can feel Tony's pompous swagger but it's okay. That is who he is. The one thing I really dig is that Tony isn't in the Iron Man getup (or is he?). I like the idea of Loki tracking mystical objects. I do feel like you have many stories that will come out of this. Don't loose interest because now I am on board. =]

- Jake

Thanks for the letter, Jake! I did indeed solicit for reviews and I’m glad you responded. The feeling of an over-arcing epic story building (even just between the first two installments of the series) is definitely there on purpose. Before I wrote a single word of the zero issue, I plotted out twenty-two stories. Yep, there’s gonna be a hell of a lot of stuff coming down the line soon. Things will build quickly and explode just as suddenly.

I really wanted to keep away from ‘The Ultimates’ feel for the book. Those are great characters, but I wanted to go for a more classic hero setting. The characters here are modern, no doubt, but they’re taking their cues from Lee and Kirby instead of Stallone and Schwarzenegger.

Loki has possibly the most drastic difference in his conception as he’s not a bitter god at all. He’s a bitter reincarnation of a bitter god. Bitterness times two! And Iron Man…well, the biggest surprise for his character won’t be coming for a while, but I would bet my life savings that no one will guess what it is. In fact, I’m open to guesses. Anyone got a clue what Iron Man could be hiding?

As always, feedback is greatly welcomed and appreciated (even if it’s negative). Hit me up at h4hdave@yahoo.com and be sure to let me know if there’s anything I can do for you in return of the time you took to drop me a line.

Now, before you run off and jump to another link on the site, I have one more surprise in store for you: a back-up feature starring those lost warriors of WW2, the Invaders!

-D. Golightly
2-25-08

Presenting the world's greatest heroes of yesteryear!

"RACE TO SAVE THE WORLD!"

STARRING:

Captain America		Sub-Mariner		Human Torch		Commander Marvel		Lady Liberty

ALSO FEATURING:

Agent 13		Master Man

France, 1944

"You wretched Invaders!" a man in a dark blue and yellow costume screamed at the top of his lungs. "You will fall before the Third Reich's greatest warrior, Master Man!"

The Nazi superhuman, Master Man, dove for the collection of heroes that had stood to oppose him. His blonde hair, cut close to his scalp, helped signify the visage of the master race that he and his superiors obsessed over. His bulging muscles swelled inside his outfit, augmented by the synthetic chemicals that coursed through his veins. On his chest blazed the swastika, marking him for what he truly was.

Five legendary heroes awaited his descent, each ready and willing to lay down their lives for the woman they protected. They had been appointed the task of getting her to a secure outpost, and that's exactly what they intended to do. Their leader, a champion that was easily recognizable from the colors he wore, lifted his shield over his head and replied to the Nazi's challenge with a battle cry, "Invaders, assemble!"

Commander Marvel was the first to act. Once Captain America lowered his shield Marvel blazed by overhead, fists outstretched to meet the coming challenger. His skills had been hardened by his time spent in the Kree armada and was more than willing to take up the fight alone.

"Perhaps we should find cover," the robotic Human Torch said to the two women at his side. "I have had the unfortunate experience of dealing with Master Man before, and I am afraid that the Commander, strong he though may be, will not hold him back for long."

"Agreed," Lady Liberty responded as she turned to another of their members. "Namor, can you and Captain America cover us while we make our escape?"

"The Sub-Mariner will not allow him to pass," the aquatic hero said as he too took to the air.

Captain America looked over his shoulder and looked at Lady Liberty, the Human Torch, and the woman they were charged with transporting safely. "Keep moving," he said with conviction. "We'll hold him. Your mission is too important to not succeed. The whole war depends on it!"

And with that declaration, Captain America ran forward toward the fray and let his shield fly through the air. Even though most would dismiss the shield as a mere defense, the hero of the Second World War has mastered its use offensively. Marvel, knowing what the leader of the Invaders would do, had already swung behind their foe and wrapped his strong arms around Master Man, holding him in midair. The shield stayed true to its owner's intent, catching Master Man under his chin and knocking his head back.

The Sub-Mariner quickly followed up the blow with a pair of his own, using fists attuned to the depths of the oceans instead of projectiles. Master Man took the hits, held back by Commander Marvel, and spit out a mouthful of blood. Although it looked like the Invaders had the drop on their enemy, they knew it wouldn't be long before the Nazi shook them free and went after his target.

"I do not wish to flee," the woman they were escorting, and the one person Master Man had come for, said as she watched the brutal fight over their heads. "I can fight with you, help you—"

"No," Lady Liberty said with a dismissing wave. "And we don't have time to argue. If what you told the brass back at SHIELD headquarters was true, then we can't risk you getting hurt."

"I am sorry, Sharon," the Torch added. "We must run and warn the French Resistance before it is too late."

"Okay," Sharon said. "But since we're all using codenames, you might as well call me by mine. Call me Agent 13.”

The trio had just enough time to turn and see something fly by over their heads. A green and white shape rocketed by, plummeting back down to terra firma in a heap, opening up a smoking crater once it touched down. “Marvel!” Lady Liberty screamed as she outstretched a hand toward their fallen compatriot.

If the Torch had muscle and tissue covering his face instead of tempered steel, he would have cast a hated look at the supposed Master Man. Ever since he had first encountered a group of Nazis upon his activation, he had been determined to bring their cruel ilk down. The twin smokestacks on his back puffed out smoke, signaling that the combustion had begun deep inside his casing. Tiny twin flames sprung to life at his wrists, fed by the special fuel that only his maker had concocted.

“I hope you are armed, Agent 13,” the android said. “We will hold this monster back as long as we can. Start running and don’t look back!”

TO BE CONTINUED…