The sound echoed off the walls as the alien shape split open. In the next moment, all hell broke loose.
* * *
“CAPTAIN UNIVERSE,” Cap said, “we could’ve used your help here—” Shang-Chi gestured to cut him off. If she had heard, however, she gave no indication.
“How can we help you, Mother?” the master of kung fu asked.
“Did you see my fuzzy slippers that I accidentally misplaced?” she asked. “I think someone put them in the trash one winter. I wish I had a winter coat. It’s cold out there.
“And you’re not coming…” Captain Universe turned and gestured toward Manifold, while still talking to Shang-Chi. “Just him, for the trip.”
“Great,” Eden said, and he didn’t look thrilled.
“You don’t have a winter coat either,” she said to him. “You should get one.”
“Why?”
“It’s cold in space.”
* * *
CAPTAIN UNIVERSE pointed at Manifold, and before he had time even to blink, he was moved to another part of the cosmos.
That’s what it must feel like for the others, he thought. She was right. It’s cold.
“So where are we now?” He frowned. “I can usually tell, but this is… this is different.” They stood atop a building that looked to be at least a hundred stories high—one of many in a futuristic cityscape. Most of the buildings seemed at least that tall, and spread across the distance before them. The sky was a deep rust color, though stars could be seen. This wasn’t a place on Earth—he’d have felt it. Equally important, it wasn’t anyplace he had traveled before, and he had traveled to a great many places since learning how to move through space.
“Galador.” Captain Universe turned her head a bit and looked his way. “This is where it begins.”
“Where what begins?” In the distance, far above the planet, something moved, too far away for him to identify.
“The end,” she replied. “The end begins here.”
“Doesn’t seem so bad to me,” he commented, his eyes still on the distant object. It moved closer.
She sighed. “You see it as it is,” she said, “and not what it will soon be.” The shape coalesced into that of a ship. It was a massive thing, several city blocks in length. “They come,” she added.
“They?” Her words confused him until motion, off to one side, drew his attention away from the leviathan. Five smaller forms rose from the city—humanoid forms, with eerie red light glinting off gleaming armor. “Are they part of the problem?”
“No,” she responded. “They are knights. The guardians of this place. They will be the first to stand—and the first to fall.” The ship came closer, dwarfing the buildings. “My children. My lost little children… How did you stray so far?”
When the ship was directly overhead, she turned to him.
“You should go now, Manifold. This is no place for you.”
“So you brought me here just to see this, didn’t you?” he replied, and she nodded almost imperceptibly.
“The others wouldn’t trust it coming from me,” she said, staring into the distance. “They confuse damaged with delusional. But they will listen to you.” She paused, then added, “Next time I want you to wear your coat.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” he said. “This is going to be bad, isn’t it?”
“Beyond your comprehension, Eden.” As he began to glow, she added, “Tell the Avengers they have not done enough. The machine is not complete. To protect a world you must possess the power to destroy a world.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Go now—use words they will understand. They have to get bigger.”
The last thing he saw was the five figures, sheathed in metal, each one unique, though similar enough in design to let him know they shared an origin.
Then he was gone.
* * *
“RUN!” THE masked scientist screeched. “Runnnn!”
He and the other staff from the A.I.M. lab bolted down the hallway past a group of security personnel whose armor was fashioned to look much like the scientific uniforms. The leader of the three-man squad was the first to enter the corridor.
“Lockdown has been initiated, sir. Code Black,” one of his men said. “That means a full island quarantine.”
“Yes, but what’s the meaning of this?” the squad leader demanded, snagging the fleeing scientist. “Explain yourself, Doctor… Why have you abandoned your lab?”
“Not worth it,” the frantic man babbled. “Just not worth it.”
“I suppose not.” The squad leader gestured, and one of his men shot the scientist. “Coward.” He headed down the corridor toward whatever had caused the panic. “Follow me, gentlemen. Let’s see what scared those weak men so badly.”
Turning the corner, he stopped short. A dark-haired woman in a black-and-gold uniform leaned weakly against the wall. The uniform was tattered.
“Superia?”
“Sh-should never have brought it here,” the woman muttered.
“What happened?
“There’s a price to pay for it,” she said, looking up with unseeing eyes. “It heard the call and broke free… Now it’s loose.”
* * *
“IT’S MOVING very quickly, Doctor,” the S.H.I.E.L.D. technician said.
“Or we’re moving too slowly,” Banner replied.
“Sir, we did as you asked,” another tech said. She was seated at a console. “Gamed out the trajectory based on the times it’s slowed down enough to be picked up by satellite.” She locked eyes with him, and he saw fear there. “You’re not going to believe this,” she added. “It’s headed for Perth.”
Banner went to activate his comm. “Captain, are you still there?”
“Sir,” the first tech said, “we’ve lost the signal.”
“Well then, get it back,” Banner replied. His head was tight with tension, and he began to sweat.
“Yes, sir—attempting to reconfigure. But we need you to—”
“Yes, I know, I know,” he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Just give me a moment.”
“Work-around did it—we’re coming back online,” the tech said.
“Good,” Banner said. Keep it together, Doctor…
“Sir?”
I am not here… he thought. I am standing in a meadow, surrounded by nothing but peaceful—
“Oh, hell,” Banner said aloud. “Run.”
* * *
PETER PARKER—SPIDER-MAN—LOOKED at the decaying structure that still towered over the city of Perth. He was, at his very core, a man of science and logic. Reality and reason were the things that comforted him, just as surely as his sarcasm was his way of coping when his stress levels got too high, or someone else in a costume was trying to remove his head from his shoulders.
“Whatever that thing was meant to do, it served its purpose.” He spoke the words mostly to himself, but Captain America turned to peer at him. He resisted the urge to cringe.
“What do you mean?” Cap said.
Spider-Man shrugged. “Whatever that life-form was, it existed to serve a purpose, and now it’s done.” He gestured around. “I mean, we beat those things—okay, Thor beat those things—but they went down because they were done with what they had to do.” He shrugged. “First rule of life is that it’s persistent. It’ll fight to survive at any cost. But all of those things stopping at the same time? Not one of them even twitching anymore? It’s done with whatever it was doing.”
“So what was it doing?”
Now and then, when he felt down about the way his life was going, Peter Parker considered what Captain America had overcome, what he’d accomplished, and felt better about the world around them. Though he would never say so out loud, he admired the Super-Soldier more than he could easily admit—even to himself. So when Cap asked him a question, Peter dropped the sarcasm.
“Honestly? I don’t know. I mean, we can guess that it sent a message, but there’s no way of knowing where tha
t message went or how long it’ll take to get there. Maybe S.H.I.E.L.D. sensors can tell us if there was a tachyon stream in that energy burst. If so, the message would get where it’s going a lot faster.”
Cap nodded, and then punched the communication tab on the earpiece buried under his helmet.
“Dr. Banner? Bruce? Can you or one of your technicians tell me whether or not there was tachyon radiation in the burst that came from the Perth tower?”
They all heard the response through their comms.
“This is Technician Henwright,” said an unfamiliar voice. “Dr. Banner has gone to Code Green. He’s not going to be able to help you.” In the background they could hear the sounds of carnage. That Henwright remained calm was a sign of how well trained he was. Most people would have been justifiably terrified.
“Drop him if you can,” Cap ordered.
“Already on it. Got a Hulkbuster team en route.” A pause, then the tech added, “Sir, before he lost it, we spotted something big heading your way. Probably responding to the same outgoing call as your recent opponents.”
“How big, Henwright?”
“Based on the readings it’s giving off, it’s on a power level much greater than the things you were dealing with there in Perth.”
“Thanks for the heads-up. Do you have an E.TA.?”
Spider-Man’s head buzzed, and the fine hairs on his body stood on end. He called the sensation his spider-sense. It was actually a culmination of all his senses, which had been enhanced in unique ways when a radioactive spider bit him years earlier.
“He’s—he’s on top of you now,” Henwright said.
“Incoming, Cap!” Spider-Man shouted. “Whatever it is, it’s fast!” He didn’t bother to turn his head but he pointed.
That was enough for Hyperion. He moved into the air at a speed that would have shamed the average bullet, and aimed himself for the thing coming their way.
Whatever it was, it was fast, it was metallic, and it slammed into Hyperion with enough force to send out shockwaves that shook the piles of rubble—many of which were precariously stacked—and shattered the few windows that had somehow survived the earlier battle.
Hyperion was strong enough to face off against Thor or the Hulk with little effort, and he could fly besides. Now he plowed into the ground and left a trench that stretched for several city blocks. In the process he tore through cars, trucks, and solid walls, adding to the ruins.
The thing that had smashed Hyperion into the pavement lowered itself to the ground with all the speed of a gently settling autumn leaf.
“Oh, man,” Spider-Man said, mostly to himself. “This is not good.” His spider-sense was screaming so loudly it felt as if he had a migraine.
Whatever it was, the thing was vaguely humanoid. Two arms. Two legs. It had a torso and a narrow waistline, but was decidedly not human. Its shoulders, its forearms, and other parts of its anatomy bulged in an exaggerated fashion, and it was covered from head to foot in plates of an unidentifiable grey metal. The thing was more than ten feet tall. In the center of its head, where there should have been features, was a glowing, solid-red faceplate that resembled a cyclopean eye.
“What the devil is that?” Spider-Man asked, crouching at a forty-five-degree angle on a slab of rubble.
“Something we weren’t ready for,” Cap replied. “Everyone still with us?”
“Up you go, ’Berto,” Cannonball said, helping his teammate rise.
“You know, we could be at the beach, Sam,” Sunspot said. “Little drinks, naps…”
“Just be glad we’re still breathing, kid,” Wolverine growled. “Count yourself lucky.”
“Luck had no part in this,” Thor responded, rising from a crouch. “It left us alive for a reason. It’s playing with us.” He peered at the armored newcomer. “It craves battle.”
“Then we give it what it wants,” Captain America replied as the rest of the team gathered around him. Hyperion joined them. “You know the drill, people…
“Avengers assemble!”
With that he launched himself forward, and the rest followed suit.
Components spread outward from their opponent’s forearm. The first blast took out Hawkeye and the Black Widow. The energies that came from the creature were concussive in nature and sent both of them flying back as the force of the blast knocked them unconscious.
Spider-Man, Shang-Chi, and Wolverine were next. Before the heroes could even land a blow, another powerful blast struck the ground at their feet, and they were hurled away. Only Spider-Man remained conscious. Cannonball and Sunspot streaked in, only to bounce off an energy sphere that surrounded their target. Their own momentum knocked them out.
Avoiding concussive blasts, Captain America actually made it to the enemy, only to be grabbed and hurled into a nearby wall. Then Thor and Hyperion launched an assault from the air. The thing’s faceplate glowed bright, then erupted in a blast that rendered them unconscious.
The blinding flash was the last thing Spider-Man saw. Spots in his eyes gave way to blackness.
CHAPTER SEVEN
PURSUIT
A.I.M. ISLAND was on high alert. Weapons were assigned, and some of the most brilliant—if questionably ethical—minds in the world went to work on the problem of retrieving their lost prize. Satellite feeds from around the world—those not affected by the pulse—were hacked for data. A.I.M. was skilled at finding shortcuts and covering their tracks.
* * *
“WE SHOULD have been better equipped,” Superia said. “Even if the thing was exponentially stronger than initially believed.” She surveyed the damage where the pod had stood. The bodies had been removed.
“Still, you have to admit…” she added, “quite a specimen.”
“Hmmm,” the uniformed man standing next to her responded. “And one worth retrieving.” As he did, a technician approached quickly and spoke to him.
“Scientist Supreme,” the newcomer said. “The tracking system has picked up the entity. It’s stopped in… in Perth, sir.”
“Of course it has,” the lead scientist replied. “Going where it believes it is needed—where the signal called it to.” Using a handheld device, the technician called up holographic screens that showed the violence taking place in the Australian city.
“Just look what it has done to these Avengers,” Superia said, a hint of glee in her voice. “What carnage. What potential! Breathtaking.”
“Indeed,” the Scientist Supreme agreed, and he turned to a group gathered around a device that boasted four large rings, mounted on end one after the other. “Doctors! Power up the Auger!” he said loudly.
“You’re certain this will work?” she asked.
“It has before,” the Scientist Supreme answered, remembering the screams of the human guinea pig. “In a certain manner.” Details of that particular test run had been very effectively squelched.
The assault team was ready to go within five minutes. If any members of the group had a problem with the idea of being sent thousands of miles in an instant, using highly experimental technology, they never shared their trepidation.
* * *
“IT’S ALL right,” Superia said, peering up at the huge red eye. “I just want to talk.” The towering figure, fully armored, didn’t respond. Didn’t move.
The scene to which they had arrived was even more impressive than the images had implied. Thor lay smoldering on the ground, his hammer resting against his hand. Hyperion was bruised and unconscious—she hadn’t thought that actually possible. Given different circumstances this would have been a gold mine of assets. The vivisection of an Asgardian would teach them so very much that was currently pure conjecture. Just to get her hands on Spider-Man for a few hours would yield a wealth of scientific data.
Even now Thor’s breathing was changing and Captain America groaned. They had been defeated but not killed.
Pity.
Still, the harvesting team would gather what they could, for further study. No s
ense in wasting a unique opportunity, after all.
Above them stood the target of her attention. The thing was magnificent. Organic, yes, but metallic. This was the sort of creation that would change the game, given time—as evidenced by how quickly and easily it had taken out the so-called “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.”
The thing’s head turned, and she assumed it was studying them, assessing their potential as a threat. Beyond that, the thing did not move, and she decided that was a positive. Carefully she held out a small holographic projector.
“I want you to see something,” Superia said, keeping her voice utterly calm. “I would have shown it to you as soon as you emerged, but you left in such a rush.” The image that floated in the air showed both the Earth, as seen from a distance, and Mars. “Best we can tell, this is what happened to you,” she continued.
“It started on Mars and spread to the Earth. Most people around the world thought it was an attack.” She nodded toward the fallen heroes. “After looking closely, we determined it was more like an infection—a way to modify our ecosphere. But it was interrupted.”
She walked closer. The head of the thing tracked her and focused, as near as she could tell, on the image she was projecting. Keeping its attention was important. Around her, the assault team shifted, the men and women moving slowly into position. She switched the hologram to show the pod as they had found it.
“When you hatched from your cocoon, it was into a world that didn’t really want or need you, and now you don’t know what to do,” Superia continued. “We can help you. We can teach you. It’ll just take time… and a more conducive…”
By her calculations, they would have exactly one chance to do this right. If they failed, the Avengers wouldn’t be the only ones lying on the ground, though she was convinced that any blasts the thing might let loose would be enough to vaporize ordinary humans like her.
That wasn’t going to happen.
“…work environment.”
The instant she uttered the keywords, the first team struck from behind and caught the creature unawares. The sole purpose of the light show was to keep its attention and, happily, it had worked. Their clamps locked onto the thing’s neck and arm, and sent low-amplitude electrical discharges through its body, set to a frequency that mirrored the creature’s assaults on the Avengers. The devices had been designed to use on Thor or the Hulk, and modifications had been easy enough.
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