by Stan Lee
“Mummy, I don’t understand.”
He glanced nervously at the carved Dragon on the font. It felt warm, comforting. Would it protect him?
His mother slapped him.
Liam yelped and toppled over. The floor of the church should have been cold stone, but it felt like sand.
“Mummy!” he cried. He was stunned; his mother had never, ever hit him before. “Why did you do that?”
She towered over him, staring with hard eyes. Now he noticed: her eyes were glowing.
“Mummy?”
He struggled to his feet—and whirled, panicked, toward the Dragon carving. But he couldn’t see it anymore.
The earth will shake, he thought. The earth will burn….
“Ram! Focus on me!”
Hands grasped his shoulders, turning him around. Filled with dread, he looked up toward his mother—his mother who’d slapped him, betrayed him, betrayed the Dragon. The Dragon that had given him back his past, taken him home, welcomed him into its new world.
But it wasn’t his mother who stood before him. It was Snake. Her eyes shone bright, boring into his mind.
“I can’t keep this up,” she said. Sweat beaded on her furrowed brow. “The Dragon’s mind control—it’s on a whole other level than my hypnosis. I can poke a hole in it, but you’ve got to shake it off yourself.”
Liam stared into her eyes. Her power burned through him, presenting him with a lifeline back to reality. But the Dragon offered brotherhood, togetherness, love. It promised freedom from thought, from obligation, from all the hard choices of life. I can’t, he thought. I can’t leave all that behind….
Then he remembered the man in the carving. The man who fought back against overwhelming odds, who risked his life to slay the monster. The man who loved his friends, his family, his homeland.
That, he thought. That’s who I want to be.
The hero.
The fighter.
“I’m all right,” he said. “Thanks.”
He was back in the desert; the sun glared in his eyes. Malik stood behind Snake, looking dazed. And Monkey’s legion of Vanguard soldiers remained completely still, lined up in perfect rows behind their leader. The strange towers of Lystria loomed beyond, the pit crisscrossed by the web of machinery.
“So,” Monkey said, “my old partner is here, after all.” He loped over to sneer at Snake. “Malik’s little secret weapon.”
“Vincent,” Snake said, using Monkey’s real name, “listen to me. The Dragon is using you.”
“The Dragon rewards loyalty,” Monkey said. “But then, you wouldn’t know anything about that. You work for Steven Lee now.”
“I work for myself,” Snake hissed.
Monkey dismissed her with a sniff and capered over to Malik. “Ox, baby. You’re loyal, right? You don’t want to fight us?”
“I…don’t know,” Malik said. “Can’t seem to think straight.”
“We’re your friends,” Monkey continued. “Your buddies in Vanguard. Remember that?”
“Vanguard,” Malik repeated. “I work for Vanguard. Or…I used to?”
“He’s fighting it,” Snake said. “They both are.”
“You can’t fight the Dragon,” Monkey said, gesturing. “Ask him.”
Liam studied the line of soldiers. His heart sank as he noticed a new addition to their ranks: Nicky—Dog—stood with the Vanguards, his eyes glassy and staring.
The Monkey’s right, Liam realized. Snake had shocked Liam back to his senses—for now. But he could still feel the Dragon’s lure, its tempting warmth. It danced around the edges of his mind, pushing and probing, searching for a way back in.
“Vincent,” Snake said. “Maxwell betrayed you, remember? He stole your powers.”
Monkey shrugged. “They came back.”
Liam studied his teammates, thinking furiously. Nicky’s completely compromised, he thought. Malik is fightin’ the mind control, but he’s wavering. Snake is busy with Vincent.
Looks like it’s up to me.
“Maxwell stood over you,” Snake continued, staring into Monkey’s eyes. “Over both of us. He drained your power with his bare hands, and you asked him, ‘Why?’ Do you remember that?”
Monkey looked into her glowing eyes. “‘Why?’” he repeated. “I asked him, ‘Why?’”
She’s hypnotizing him, Liam realized. Using her power. But it won’t last long.
Liam glanced up at the nearest control tower. It was eighty, maybe a hundred meters away, at the edge of the pit. Trouble is, there’s at least a thousand soldiers between it and me….
Snake stepped closer to Monkey. “And Maxwell? What did he say?” Her eyes glowed brighter. “When you asked him why he was doing that to you?”
A look of fear crossed Monkey’s face. “He…he said…”
They spoke the words in unison. “‘Because I can.’”
Liam stared at the tower. That’s it, he knew. That’s where the mind control is coming from. The Dragon isn’t here, not in person; it’s busy someplace else, probably fighting Steven’s team. So its power is being broadcast through that machinery.
As he thought of the Dragon, Liam felt a wave of doubt. He remembered the warmth, the security of the creature’s dark embrace. He thought of the ancient carving, the power that seemed to reach down to the very roots of his homeland.
If I don’t move now, he thought, it’ll snare me again.
He took off running.
“Hey!” Monkey yelled. He pulled away from Snake, shaking off her hypnotic power. “Stop him! All of you, stop him!”
Four soldiers converged on Liam’s charging figure. He laughed and swung a fist, knocking one man away. He zigzagged to one side, then the other, jabbing out with both elbows. The soldiers toppled, offering barely any resistance.
These guys are stiff, he realized. Looks like mind-controlled drones don’t make the best fighters!
A wall of soldiers blocked his way—eight, maybe nine. Liam hesitated. Even with his powers, he could be taken down by superior numbers. And he hadn’t had time to work out a plan.
Grimacing, he lowered his head. The snorting Ram appeared above him, scraping its feet, eager to charge. As he barreled forward, the soldiers raised their energy rifles.
Before Liam could reach the soldiers, a thick fist bashed into the nearest man’s helmet, knocking him to the ground. Liam looked up, amazed, to see Malik wading into the line of men. The Ox flared bright as Malik punched and kicked, expertly slapping away weapons and fists.
In less than a minute, nine Vanguard soldiers lay still on the ground.
Liam cast a glance back. The rest of the soldiers watched, unsure of their next move. Snake had retreated behind them, out of sight.
“Mate,” Liam said, clapping Malik on the back. “I knew ye’d come through!”
Malik looked down at the unconscious bodies. “So much for my triumphant return to Vanguard.”
“Yer better off,” Liam said. “Uh-oh—incoming.”
Monkey approached, leading the soldiers. “Surround ’em!” he yelled, pointing at Liam and Malik. “Bring ’em down!”
Malik turned to Liam. “You got a plan?”
“Aye,” Liam replied. “I do now.”
He pointed at the charging Vanguard agents—hundreds of them, converging on Liam and Malik. Then he lifted his finger up, toward the tower behind them.
“Got it,” Malik said.
In one quick motion, Malik lifted Liam and threw him toward the mass of soldiers. Liam ducked and rolled, then reached forward and grabbed on to the lead soldier’s helmet. The man yelped and scrabbled at his head—but Liam just bounced off, laughing and twisting in the air.
“Go, you crazy cannonball!” Malik yelled.
Liam reached out feetfirst and kicked off another soldier’s helmet. Liam bounced up; the soldier went down. The others, the soldiers nearest him, pointed and aimed their weapons.
“Shoot him!” Monkey screamed. “Blast him out of the air!�
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As Liam landed, a volley of energy beams seared past him. He felt a jolt of panic: Maybe this wasn’t such a great plan! He glanced up at the tower. Still at least forty meters away. Those beams will fry me before I can…
Wait a minute, he thought. I’ve been fighting defensively, because I’m not used to having my power. But I’m invulnerable again!
One of the soldiers had Liam in his sights, aiming his rifle carefully. Liam grinned straight at him.
“Gimme all you got,” Liam said, and leaped.
The beam struck him in the chest, propelling him into the air. His jacket ripped; a burn hole appeared in his shirt. He laughed.
“Again!” he cried.
The soldiers frowned, blinked, and kept firing. In the distance, Liam could hear Monkey’s angry shouts.
Liam rode the energy beams, using them to blast up and around, left and right. He angled and aimed his body carefully, bouncing and caroming off the ground and the soldiers’ heads, leaping closer and closer to the deep pit of Lystria.
He’d almost reached the tower when he miscalculated. A full-strength energy beam sent him flying sideways, over the gaping abyss of the pit itself. He flailed, reached out, and grabbed hold of one of the long arcing struts that stretched from the central building to the edges of the pit.
That close to the heart of the complex, the hum of machinery pulsed and throbbed. Liam gazed into the pit. Even in the bright sunlight, he could see only a meter down. Beyond that was blackness, deep and total.
Monkey stood at the edge of the pit, backed up by his remaining soldiers. “Don’t!” he called out. “Don’t touch anything!”
Liam studied the control tower. He could feel the mind-control energy emanating from it. The Dragon’s iron will, processed and delivered by remote control.
“Get down from there!” Monkey screamed. His soldiers held up their weapons, aiming tentatively. But they couldn’t risk a shot so close to the machinery.
Liam lowered his head and braced himself against the machine strut. The Ram raged and snorted, louder and fiercer than ever before. It leaned forward, aiming its coiled horns at the control tower.
“Never send a machine t’do a Dragon’s job,” he growled.
Then he jumped.
When he struck the control tower, all hell broke loose. As his indestructible head rammed through the outer wall, Liam caught a quick glimpse of circuitry filling a tall chamber. Then the chamber burst apart; sparks flew, fires broke out. The tower cracked, broke in half, and toppled into the pit.
By the time Liam burst out the far side, he was laughing again.
When he landed on the ground, the soldiers were already scattered. With the Dragon’s mind control disrupted, they seemed confused. They milled around in groups of four or five, comparing notes, discussing possible courses of action. Some of them had already started marching off across the desert.
“Nice work,” Malik said, clapping Liam on the back. “Mate.”
“Aye, thanks.” Liam looked around. “Where’s Monkey?”
“I tried to stop him.” Snake walked up, rubbing the back of her neck. “He clocked me and ran off.”
“Brute force,” Liam said. “The surest way t’beat hypnosis.”
“We’re not done yet.” Malik pointed out over the pit. “There are still three control towers standing.”
Liam studied the complex. The tower he’d struck sparked and crackled, little fires burning along its exposed stump. A few of the large struts had buckled, but most were still standing, connecting the central building to the remaining towers.
“Yeah,” Liam said. “Take those out, we might knock out the Dragon’s whole plan.”
Malik clenched his fists and flexed. The raging Ox rose above him, snorting and stampeding in the air.
“One for you,” Malik said. “And one for me. That leaves—”
“One more for me.”
They turned to see Nicky. He looked sheepish—as sheepish as a man covered with yellow fur could look, anyway.
“Three of us,” Malik said, nodding. “Three towers. And a thousand half-brainwashed soldiers.”
Snake smiled. It wasn’t her usual smirk. It seemed genuine, an expression of honest delight.
“I’ll make the popcorn,” she said.
“Duane? Duane, ye crazy Pig, are ye there?”
Duane whipped his head toward the screen. He shot across the Infosphere, bringing himself to a halt before an image of Liam’s face.
“Liam! You’re alive. Well, obviously you’re alive.” Duane blinked. “What’s your status?”
Liam grinned. “Our status?”
The image changed to a wide-range view. The complex of Lystria lay shattered, in ruins. All four control towers had been smashed. The central building had been cracked open like a nut; it listed at an angle, leaning against the inside walls of the pit. Metal struts lay jumbled all around, like sticks thrown into a pile. Smoke rose from two of the towers and from inside the pit itself.
“Let’s just say,” Liam said, “the dead of Lystria might rest a little easier today.”
The image panned out across the desert. A long line of soldiers, wearing the distinctive Vanguard uniforms, trudged off into the wasteland. They looked like refugees from a war.
“So did it work?” Liam asked. “We stop the Dragon in its scaly, slimy tracks?”
“Hold on a minute.”
Duane punched up a readout on an adjacent screen. The Dragon energy was indeed reduced at the Lystria site—almost nonexistent, in fact. But…
“Rammer?” Nicky’s face crowded in next to Liam’s on the screen. “How’d we do?”
Duane ignored them. He called up a range of worldwide readings: seismographs, energy levels…eruption frequencies….
“No,” he said. “You haven’t stopped the Dragon.”
Their faces fell.
“You’ve reduced its power,” Duane added, hurriedly. “Tremors have subsided around the world. But everything within…approximately four thousand kilometers of Tamu Massif, in all directions, is still about to blow.”
Liam sighed. “So the world won’t catch fire. Only about a quarter of it.”
“That’s about right.” Duane frowned. “The Tamu Massif complex…it must contain a backup system for the region in its vicinity. And judging from the readings I’m getting from the buoy left on the surface by Steven’s team—”
“That’s where the Dragon is.” Liam grimaced. “I kind of figured that.”
The image swiveled to Malik’s somber face. Snake stood with him. “There’s nothing more for us to do here,” he said, gesturing at the smoking pit. “We’re returning to base.”
“Looks like it’s up to Steven now,” Liam said.
“Yes. Steven.” Duane cut the connection. “And possibly…”
An impatient noise caught his attention. He turned to the far side of the Infosphere. “Yes, yes. I’m coming.”
Carlos floated in the sphere’s null gravity, still wrapped in a blanket. His eyes were barely open, but his hands sketched out a design on one of the screens. Duane swam over and studied the image.
“Interesting,” he said. “Do you think we can build it in time?”
With great effort, Carlos turned to look him in the eye.
“We’d better,” he said.
THE DRAGON THRUST its head out of the volcano, snarling with wrath. Primal energy, the forces of nature itself, pulsed through the creature’s protean form. The sea churned at the Dragon’s command; the earth coughed and spat fire.
The Dragon was changing. Evolving, growing stronger with every passing minute. Electricity, magnetism, gravity—all the elemental forces danced along its skin, sparking and radiating from its form. Its wings tingled with power, itching to break free of its mountain base. But not yet. Not yet.
The world was changing, too—bending to the Dragon’s will, to its inhuman dream of a perfect future. All along the seabed, in the dense rock that partially form
ed the planet’s crust, plates collided, heated, transformed. Very soon everything would change.
A mote, a speck of matter, caught the Dragon’s eye: the metal vessel, still limping its way through the dark water. It was badly damaged, its air steadily leaking out. But it managed to fire off another burst of sound, detonating yet another explosive charge along the volcanic mountain below.
The resulting quake barely registered on the Dragon’s superhuman body, but some instinct—possibly left over from its human host—made its neck scales prickle in alarm. The ship and its puny explosions couldn’t harm the Dragon. But they might damage the machines, the postorganic constructs that were crucial to building the Dragon’s new world.
The Dragon whipped its head upward, opened its jaws wide, and spat fire. Just a tiny flame, enough to bathe the vessel. The ship tipped, listed, and rolled end over end.
Inside, the water had risen to waist level. Josie half sat, half floated in the pilot seat, a dazed expression on her face. Kim leaned over her, tending to an open gash on her forehead. Roxanne struggled out of the power amplifier mask and started toward them.
Then the ship tipped over and she went under, gasping as all the air bubbled out of her lungs.
“Such nastiness,” Mince said, smirking at the holographic image of Roxanne flailing underwater.
Steven stared in horror.
“She’s the only one who knows how to pilot your little toy, isn’t she?” Mince indicated Josie’s dazed figure. “And look at that leak. I’d say they’ve got fifteen, maybe twenty minutes before the whole ship is flooded.”
She clicked a remote control and the image vanished. The tectonic plates returned in its place, sliding through the air, shifting and colliding. The whir of machinery filled the two-story lab, louder and more discordant than before.
“So,” Mince said, turning to look at Steven, “what you gonna do?”
Steven glanced past the hologram, at his parents. They stood huddled together, backed up against a laboratory sink. The path to them wasn’t clear; two large tables stood between him and them.
Mince smiled. She held up her rings, the ones that spelled out DIE, and started polishing their sharp tips. Behind her, the Sha Qi crystal glowed white, powering the deadly machines.