Namor said nothing, but she could see him weighing her words. He was a strong man who had been humbled, but was he a wise ruler? Would he fight, or would he see to the safety of his people?
He looked away, and she knew she had won. He was, in fact, a wise ruler when he needed to be.
“Can you do that for me, Prince Namor? Can you save what little remains of your Atlantis?”
Namor lowered his head.
* * *
IN RUSSIA the people surrendered quickly. The super heroes of the Kremlin were no longer united, and most of them could not be found. The government watched the powerful ships descend, and then did the only wise thing they could to survive.
They surrendered.
The damage to the nation was minimal.
* * *
IN MEXICO City, almost a million people were destroyed before the rulers of the country even had a chance to surrender.
* * *
IN CHINA, the war lasted for several hours. Numerous areas were devastated before the government conceded.
When the ships arrived in Hong Kong soon thereafter, the rulers were quicker to concede.
* * *
KOBE, JAPAN, already had suffered a massive interplanetary assault. The million-plus people who had been living in the area no longer existed.
The Japanese prime minister sent a message of surrender before the first ship landed.
* * *
ACROSS THE globe the alien ships swarmed, forcing all nations to face the same dilemma: fight or survive. Where there were superhumans, the resistance lasted longer. Where there were not, the governments were on their own.
Some were wise enough to surrender early on.
Many were not. The devastation was profound.
* * *
“WE ARE winning, brother!” In Wakanda Queen Shuri chose to stand and fight. Her brother, T’Challa, fought beside her. They both wore the ceremonial garb of the Black Panther.
The ships that came for Wakanda learned very quickly that the country had far better defenses than most, already bolstered in anticipation of the inevitable war with Atlantis. A few of the alien vessels got through before the vast, golden shield was raised to defend the air. Those that failed to get past the barrier quickly discovered that their weapons weren’t enough to penetrate it.
Those that did make it past the shield landed quickly and released shock troops that proved capable of leveling buildings with ease. Even so, Wakanda’s internal defenses kept the capital city safe from the worst of the barrages, and the soldiers of Wakanda met their enemies with powerful retaliation.
The closest of the ships released more troops and one mountainous creature. It was the size of the Hulk—perhaps even larger—and possessed scaly golden skin that looked almost as tough as its armor. As it came closer, the thing spoke.
“I see that not all on this world are weak. Men die and the fields are burning, just as Lord Thanos intended.” Its arms were long enough to remind them of the great white gorillas in the north. “I am Black Dwarf. I seek the gem, and the one who holds it.” He looked directly at T’Challa as he spoke, and the once-king felt a dread creep through him. “Is there a great warrior here who would face me? Or do I have to hunt you down?”
“I am the one you seek,” T’Challa said without hesitation. He fought his way through the newcomer’s savage retinue, scattering them one at a time, making it seem effortless. “I am the Black Panther, king of the dead and soon to be your new lord.”
When he reached for Black Dwarf, the giant swung a massive arm and tried to hit him. He missed, but his fist shattered the earth when it made contact. As it was, the Panther was knocked into the air by the force of the impact, and the blow likely would have destroyed him.
Around them the Wakandans and Shuri continued the fight, repelling the invaders. All knew, however, that the outcome rested on the two key combatants. T’Challa alone faced the massive leader.
* * *
“QUICKLY NOW, Reed,” Stark said as he sped back into the command center. “I’m spinning the arc reactor that powers the tower’s new defense system, but we’re going to have a small window in which to act.”
Outside the enemy barrage had begun, littering the skies with explosions, shattering walls and windows around them. Though Avengers Tower had not yet been struck, the building shook from the assault.
“Small window, indeed. I counted more than fifty vessels,” Richards replied, stretching to reach a control panel. “We’ll have maybe sixty seconds before they triangulate on the tower and we become the focus of their attention.”
“System activated.” Iron Man tapped a series of holographic controls that hung in the air in front of him. “Bringing the batteries online.”
The first impact struck—and was repelled. The defenses held.
“I’ve got a green light on the second station,” Richards confirmed. “What now?” “What do you think, Reed?”
Stark hit the command button.
“Fire!”
Missiles launched from the tower’s defense batteries. The weapons smashed into the vast ships with so much force that the vessels were pulverized. This kept devastatingly large chunks of debris from plummeting down on the streets and buildings. As it was, the damage was far from acceptable.
“Kill radius looks to be approximately one mile,” Stark said. “Effective, but we’ve got their attention now, as well. The entire wing is vectoring on our position. Fifteen seconds out.”
“Good,” Richards responded. “All eyes are upon us. If we’re lucky, we’ll buy everyone else more time.”
* * *
TO THE north of Manhattan and the city proper, a group of ships converged on a location in Westchester County, seeking another individual who might well hold the gem.
At the Jean Grey School for Gifted Youngsters, the mutants known as the X-Men—including the recently returned Wolverine—fought to defend their own headquarters. The alien aggressors had anticipated strong resistance and prepared for it.They were led by Corvus Glaive and the towering blue-skinned female omnipath called Supergiant.
“Forward!” Glaive bellowed, gesturing with a blade capable of cutting on the atomic scale. “Find the stone! Find the one who holds it.” As the defenders piled out of the school and approached, he added, “Look, Supergiant—heavy game.”
“Fodder,” the giantess replied as she scanned their minds. “An eternal man, an elemental, some minor players with mental acuity. No, the only real danger is the omega-level mutates.” She waved one black-clad hand. “I will take the mind of the megamorph now, and make it my own.”
Iceman let out a scream of agony.
“There. Much better. Useful.”
Abruptly the X-Men were engulfed in a glacier. Those who slipped past the assault were taken down by invaders with a wide variety of weapons. Wolverine was speared and lifted into the air, his blood spraying everywhere.
“Bravado is good,” Corvus Glaive said. “All great warriors are marked by it… and then one day, it puts them into their graves.” He thrust downward, pinning his victim to the ground. “This is that day, mutant.”
In a matter of moments, the mutants were defeated.
* * *
IN MANHATTAN’S Greenwich Village, a single ship dropped down, landing gently on Bleecker Street. It was a smaller vessel and only carried one occupant. He was called the Ebony Maw, and he had exactly one goal: to find the Earth’s Sorcerer Supreme and wrest information from the man who claimed to be a master of the mystic arts.
The alien made his way past wards created to resist any assault as if they were empty air. Upon entering his target’s lair, he found only one ineffectual defender and quickly bound him.
In the center of the sanctum, he located Doctor Strange, floating cross-legged above the floor and unaware of the intruder.Ebony Maw stared at the man and smiled gently.
“Everyone has limits.” He spoke softly as his hands caressed the physical form of the Sorcerer Supreme. “An end to what t
hey are.” Around them eldritch energies swirled. “I, for instance, operate in information gathering. I gain influence. I seed discord. I can use these tools in many ways. I cannot, however, merely tear into a man’s mind and simply take what is there. Instead I must use my words to see what makes a man strong… or humbles him. I have to rely only on my words, but, oh, what words they are.
“Sweet whispers of secret fears.”
He spoke, and there was an influence that wormed its way through Strange’s defenses. There was a rhythm to the words, a power to them that could not be denied. As Ebony Maw tilted back the sorcerer’s head, Strange seemed to become aware for the first time that he was under assault.
“Doouhhhh…”
Ebony Maw smiled. “Go on, Doctor. Tell the Ebony Maw all the mysteries you have hidden in your head.”
“I don’t know,” Strange said. “I don’t know where the gem is hidden.”
Wide, glowing eyes examined the man’s face. The Ebony Maw tightened his grip. “Curse the gem, Doctor,” he hissed. “A fool’s quest if ever there was one. I seek different information. I want what Thanos truly wants.”
He leaned in closer and spoke softly. “Where is the boy?”
Doctor Strange fought not to answer.
* * *
“VICTORY, BROTHER. Look at how they run,” Queen Shuri said with enthusiasm. “When will the world learn that Wakanda is no easy meal?”
Not the world… at least not this time, T’Challa mused, but he did not argue the point. The forces of Thanos retreated from Wakanda. The Black Dwarf stalked back to his ship, his head held low, and his warriors went with him. Around the Panthers, the Dora Milaje cheered, raising their spears and modern weapons alike.
“We were fortunate, my queen,” T’Challa said, standing at her side. “Much more fighting with that monster and he might have beaten me. As it is, I think my hand is broken.”
“Well, it was worth it,” she replied. “It always is when you see your enemies fleeing from you.” The alien vessels lifted off, and quickly receded in the sky.
“They weren’t expecting this sort of resistance, Shuri,” he countered. “If they had been, they would have brought a bigger army. You heard him. He was looking for something. Best that we prepare for their return.”
Shuri harrumphed. “I know nothing of a gem, T’Challa, but don’t doubt the lesson of the whip, brother. We beat them badly, and defeat is the oldest form of education. What reason would they have to return?”
He considered telling her about the Illuminati and the Infinity Gems. T’Challa loved his sister, but felt it best if she did not know about the burden of power that existed on that level.
The Infinity Gems were destroyed. That was enough. For now.
* * *
PROXIMA MIDNIGHT looked down at Namor and repressed a desire to smile. He bowed before her, and so too did several of the other Atlanteans capable of fighting back.
“You have taken a knee,” the victor said. “You have surrendered, and so Atlantis is spared. I have accepted your allegiance in exchange for what you have promised. Are we agreed?”
“My liege, you cannot do this.” One of the blue-skinned women who bowed beside the prince looked toward Namor and spoke in a tongue Proxima could not understand. “While there is one Atlantean who would fight back, we must—”
He did not even look at her as he replied. “Be silent, Andromeda.” His voice was heavy with regret, but he did not stop. “It is done, Proxima. You have my word.”
“Excellent,” she replied, and now she did smile. “Now, where is the gem?” She leaned closer. “Where do I send all the armies of my Lord Thanos?”
Namor did not smile.
“A place called Wakanda,” he replied. “You seek a man called the Black Panther.”
* * *
ATTILAN FLOATED above New York and above the battle for the world. The forces that descended did not attack the floating city. The barrier around the place might well have been all the deterrent they needed, or perhaps the invading armies simply believed that what they sought was not there.
Maximus strutted through the king’s throne room and smiled. There were times when Black Bolt felt a cold hatred toward the man, no matter how much he loved his brother.
The human world was falling.
Their governments were failing.
The forces attacking the world were familiar enough. These were the followers of Thanos, and he knew what they did not. That they had reason to seek the Inhumans among the humans in the world. Those reasons, however, could not be tolerated.
“The world is on fire, Black Bolt,” Maximus said. “Tick. Tock. One more small step and it’s off the ledge we go. Just one… small… step.”
He could not ignore Maximus’ words. Much as he wanted to, the man was right. Black Bolt nodded, just to shut his brother up, but the gesture only made the madman more eager to speak, and to gloat. He so loved it when he was right.
“Time to speak, as it were, brother,” Maximus continued. “Time for secrets to be revealed to your secret society. To let them know why all of this is happening. Time to use the machine—and time for plans within greater plans to be set in motion.”
Black Bolt held up his hand and slowly made a fist. It was a simple thing to contact the others. Technological wonders were nearly commonplace among them, and even if they weren’t, the Sorcerer Supreme would have come up with something.
The boy would need to be protected. None of his people could be harmed, not if he were true to his nature as a king. Still, sometimes a king must share secrets, and this one had already been stolen from his sleeping mind.
A secret no more, then.
It was time.
He opened the fist and tapped the palm. With a tink, a light appeared in his hand. He held it up for Maximus to see.
“Oh, brother,” the madman said. “This is going to be so much fun.” He was gloating.
Black Bolt hated that tone in his brother’s voice.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
AS THE WORLD BURNS
NOMAD WAS a relatively useless planet stuck in a solar system of remarkably little note. At least that was how Kl’rt saw it. Yet it was the location of the Citadel of the Galactic Council. It was neutral territory, where all could meet on equal footing. At least that was what the Shi’ar claimed.
In the last two days, Warlord Kl’rt had managed the impossible. He had unified the warring factions of the once-great Skrull Empire. He did not rule over them, but for the moment they would listen to him. There was a greater enemy to face, an army that had already slaughtered over two hundred billion Skrulls. The outpost Hy’lt Minor had been destroyed only a day before.
That had been the tipping point. Finally the other Skrull warlords listened when he spoke. For the moment their differences were deemed insignificant. They needed a leader, and Kl’rt won by dint of his extraordinary abilities.
Among the Skrulls he was a warrior of great renown who from time to time brought shame to his people, and at other times inspired great glory. Among the people of Earth—where he had spent far too much of his time and where he had been humiliated more than once—he was called the Super-Skrull.
As a race, the Skrulls possessed inherent shape-shifting talents. This enabled them to infiltrate civilizations entirely undetected and inspired a great deal of paranoia among those populations. The first time the humans on Earth repelled a Skrull contingent, they were led by the superhuman team known as the Fantastic Four.
In an effort to make certain that never happened again, Kl’rt was granted the same powers as all four members of that team. He was powerful indeed, and he used those powers to attain a position of leadership. Someone warred with his people, and he would not leave control of the Skrull Empire in the hands of a lesser warrior.
When he landed on Nomad, Kl’rt was accompanied by a faction of warlords who came to represent the fractured empire. The gray-skinned creature that met them was diminutive, but no one amo
ng the Skrull took that as a sign of weakness. Shape- changers could not be fooled by appearance. He explained their reason for coming, and the creature moved ahead of them, leading the way to the war council’s chambers.
“The Warlord Kl’rt, representing the various factions of the Skrull Territories, formally asks for admittance to this council of war.” The gray-skinned speaker gestured toward him.
As it did, Kl’rt looked over the gathering and nodded his approval. If they were to organize a force that would oppose a galactic invader, these were the peoples who needed to be there.
“I was under the impression that a state of civil war existed among the different factions of your people, Warlord Kl’rt.” The man who spoke was the leader of the Shi’ar. He went by a dozen different names, but most people knew him as the Gladiator. He was easily one of the most physically powerful beings in the galaxy. He was also, as far as Kl’rt was concerned, the best leader the Shi’ar had been granted in decades. “Have they truly unified under your rule?” Gladiator continued. “Do you claim to represent them all?”
The Skrull warlord nodded. “I represent all but Warlord Dm’yr. He sacrificed himself and many of his people in enablingus to reach you.”
J’son, the pink-skinned king of Spartax, stood and moved forward. He was a well-respected leader. Spartax was more peaceful-minded than many of the Shi’ar cultures, but they did not hide when combat became a necessity.
“It’s enough for me,” J’son said. “We need swords. We need blades, sharp ones, thirsty for Builder blood, and I welcome you as an equal. Sit. Join this council. If you will fight, I will vouch for you.”
Though not overly fond of diplomacy, Kl’rt nodded and took a seat next to a creature called Annihilus. They had fought against each other only a few months earlier, and now the loathsome insectoid was a welcome member of the war council.
How desperate we must all be, Kl’rt thought, but he kept his tongue. “Thank you, King J’son of Spartax,” he said aloud. “The Spartax Empire is led by a practical man. Always an asset in times of war.”
He could feel Annihilus watching him as he spoke.
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