NOTE: This takes place after the “Masters and Slaves” story-arc in Thunderbolts

Avengers Island

Agent Maria Hill pounced on Stark’s back, tackling one of the wealthiest men in the world to the pavement as Thunderball’s boulder flew over their bodies. She kept a firm hand on the back of his head as she drew her sidearm, looking out over the chaos caused by Moses Magnum and the Wrecking Crew.

“This island’s been operational for ten minutes and already we’re being attacked?” she asked.

“Welcome to life with the Avengers,” said Tony. “Now would you mind letting me up?”

“Sorry, force of habit.” Maria climbed off Tony and grabbed his arm, pulling him up to his feet.

Tony dusted off his suit. “Pouncing on rich, handsome, eligible bachelors is a habit of yours?”

“No, protecting important people is,” said Maria. “And Stark? You’re not my type so save the seduction routine for one of those bimbos you always turn up with in the tabloids.”

“First of all, that’s very prejudiced of you to judge those women based on looks alone,” said Tony. “And second? I’m everyone’s type.”

“Are you going to quit flirting and get into armor or what?” asked Maria.

“The armor is back on the other side of the island, even if I did get there in time, I don’t think I’m really needed when we have two of the Fantastic Four and Scott on-scene. I’m going to check on the island’s defenses, ensure that this isn’t the first front of a larger attack.”

“What should I do?” asked Maria.

“Come with if you like.”

“I’m a SHIELD liaison, I should be here for this.”

“If you insist,” said Tony. “But you should be aware that the Wrecking Crew are petty felons empowered by Asgardian magic, which makes them pretty-near invulnerable. So that gun you’re holding? All that will accomplish is making them mad. Now if you insist on staying out of some sense of duty, that’s fine. But I’d advise staying out of harm’s way and just enjoying the show. The Wrecking Crew is tough but against this team? They don’t stand a chance.”

Tony walked off towards the security base. Maria turned back towards the scene of the battle and found herself staggering as Moses Magnum’s tremors rocked the island. She silently cursed as she fell to her knees, but pulled herself back up again. Part of her wanted to follow him. But another part of her felt that she should stay here. There could be some interesting developments and she wanted to be able to give a full report to her superiors when the time came.

WRECK AND ROLL!

Part II

By Curtis Fernlund and Dino Pollard

The Wrecker grinned as he approached Ms. Marvel, tapping the enchanted crowbar in his hand. “Well, well, look what we got here. Little ol’ Warbird.”

“You’re behind the times, I’m back to Ms. Marvel again,” said Carol.

“You are?” asked the Wrecker. “Damn babe, you change names more’n I change boxers.”

“Considering I’ve only had three names, that’s pretty disgusting,” said Ms. Marvel.

“Just wait ’til you see what I’m gonna do with you after I beat you senseless!” The Wrecker moved with speed that belied his large form. Ms. Marvel grabbed his arm as he brought the crowbar down on her.

She twisted his arm behind his back and elbowed the back of his skull. “You know what your problem is, Garthwaite? You’re too damn stupid to know when you should throw in the towel!” Ms. Marvel delivered a kick to his back as she released his arm, knocking him to the ground.

The Wrecker rose once more, turning to her and snarling. He raised the crowbar above his head and drove it into the ground. The seismic vibrations caused by it would have thrown Ms. Marvel off her feet, had she not already risen into the air.

“Earthquakes against a woman who can fly?” she asked. “Really Garthwaite, why do you even bother breaking out of prison when you know we’re just gonna kick your butt and send you right back.”

She dove towards him, her fists plowing into his chest and driving him beneath the surface of the ground. When Ms. Marvel rose from the crater, she had barely been out a few seconds before the Wrecker burst through the ground behind her and grabbed her, his crowbar pressed against her throat. Ms. Marvel wrapped her fingers around it, trying to pry it loose and the Wrecker just smiled.

“Not even you’re strong enough t’ break this baby, gorgeous. Thor hisself couldn’t do it, what makes you think you can?”

“Who said anything about trying to break it?” asked Ms. Marvel.

The Wrecker then noticed that her hands had begun to glow, as did his crowbar. “What the fu—”

“I absorb energy, Wrecker. That includes the energy given off by your crowbar. And when I absorb it…”

She threw her head back, slamming her skull against the Wrecker’s nose with force enough capable of breaking it. The Wrecker’s grip around his crowbar loosened and Ms. Marvel spun on her heel, delivering a roundhouse kick to his chin as she did and then following it with a right cross. She channeled the power absorbed from the Wrecker’s crowbar into her hands and unleashed a massive burst of energy that knocked the Wrecker from Avengers Island all the way into the Atlantic.

Thunderball swung his weapon around his head and hurled it forward. Storm’s winds allowed her to easily avoid his strike. “You’re the new girl, right? Think you’re a suitable stand-in for Thor?”

Storm said nothing, her eyes completely opaque as dark clouds circled overhead and the winds began to pick up around them. Thunderball glanced around with curiosity but then laughed.

“Nice, but it takes more than bad weather to scare me off. How about I make you a deal seeing as I don’t want to damage such a beautiful face? You stand down and the two of us, we can work together.”

The winds increased in their speed and intensity as torrential rain poured from the heavens. Storm hovered in the center of it, the rain seeming to fall everywhere but upon her body.

“Thunderball, I have been pursued by devious lords of many different titles, all of them far higher in prestige than you and I have turned them all away. What makes you think I would have any interest in a petty thief?”

“Petty?” shouted Thunderball. “I’ll have you know, I am one of the most intelligent men on the face of this planet and I—”

Chain lightning streaked from the clouds in all directions, converging on Thunderball’s body. Storm seemed to make no gesture whatsoever, just continued to fix her gaze on him.

“—and you take orders from a petty thief because you fear his strength,” she said. “Honestly Thunderball, if you thought this would impress me, you were sorely mistaken.”

Piledriver brought his massive fists down on the Invisible Woman, but found them slamming against a barrier he could not see. He looked at his fists in confusion and tried again, pounding down on her shield but finding it impossible to break into it.

“All you’re doing is making me angry,” she said, her eyes narrowed. “I was looking forward to a nice, quiet day with family and friends and here you had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”

“Howzabout you drop that thing and try fightin’?” asked Piledriver. He raised his arms again, but something rubbery wrapped around them, holding them back. Mr. Fantastic’s head, attached to his elongated neck, stretched out in front of Piledriver.

“Trust me on this, Mr. Calusky, you don’t want her to do that.”

Piledriver tried to pull free, but whenever he did, Mr. Fantastic’s body just seemed to grow longer and tighten more frequently around his arms. Before long, Piledriver found himself completely restrained by the scientist.

“So what now, Richards?” asked Piledriver. “You got me but you can’t beat me. Ain’t strong enough, are ya?”

“It’s not my job to defeat you, Piledriver,” said Mr. Fantastic. “I just need to hold you still.”

“Why?” asked Piledriver. His eyes suddenly grew wide and he fell unconscious. As Piledriver’s body fell to the ground, something emerged from his ear, growing larger before it hit the ground and Ant-Man stood beside his old friends.

“So I have enough time to get inside your ear and deliver a bio-electric shock to your brain,” said the one-time Avenger, folding his arms across his chest. “Obviously.”

Bulldozer charged at the Vision but went right through the synthezoid’s body. The Vision turned just as Bulldozer stopped short and faced him once more. The criminal huffed behind the massive helmet he wore.

“Fight like a man, you robot piece of shit!”

“That’s a contradiction, Mr. Camp. As you yourself just said, I am a robot—although I prefer the term synthezoid—so it would be impossible for me to fight as anything other than a robot.”

“Think you’re so clever, eh?” asked Bulldozer. “Let’s see how y’do against this!”

The Vision sighed as Bulldozer once again passed harmlessly through him. “Mr. Camp, this is really quite pointless. As I have just proven to you, while in this state, I cannot be touched.”

“So go solid then!”

“As you wish,” said the Vision. He flew towards Bulldozer and the Wrecking Crewman welcomed him, stomping on the ground and charging to meet him halfway. Once more, the Vision began to pass through Bulldozer, but this time, he increased his density just slightly as their bodies intersected. Bulldozer cried out when this happened, the shock to even a man of his power too much and he collapsed on the ground.

Moses Magnum directed the tidal wave towards the new Avengers Mansion that rested in the center of the island. He had watched as the Wrecking Crew were easily defeated by the Avengers and he wasn’t too surprised. They were the equivalent of rowdy children holding handguns, not able to wield their immense power with any sort of direction or competence.

As he stood on a platform on Staten Island, his attention focused at the center, he failed to notice the sudden scent of brimstone that lingered in the air until he felt a finger tap him on the shoulder.

“Pardon me, sir…”

Magnum turned his head to see the grinning face of Nightcrawler. “Do you have a moment to talk about the Lord?”

Magnum broke his concentration to try and strike at the mutant, who vanished away in a burst of smoke and brimstone. Nightcrawler reappeared attached to the villain’s back. “Now is that any way to greet an old friend, Moses?”

“Get away you idiot!” shouted Magnum, the waves falling as he tried to focus his energies on Nightcrawler. But he knew from personal experience that the demonic mutant was too quick to get a bead on.

Nightcrawler spoke in-between jaunts. “Moses…I just…want to say…thank you…”

“What are you talking about?” asked Magnum.

Nightcrawler appeared right in front of Magnum’s face and smiled. “For letting me distract you so effectively.”

“What…?”

Captain America’s shield flew into Magnum’s back and knocked him from his perch. The Living Legend flipped in the air, catching the shield as it flew back and then slamming it down once more on Magnum’s skull and the mutant’s world faded to black.

Avengers Island

The Avengers gathered and watched as the Guardsmen carted off the defeated and disgraced Wrecking Crew, along with their unwilling ally, Moses Magnum. Captain America was the first to speak, the shield slung on his back and arms folded over his chest.

“Just what was that about?” he asked.

“Maybe they were trying to make a name for themselves, ja?” asked Nightcrawler. “This team has received quite a bit of publicity since we came together.”

“I could see the Wrecking Crew thinking that’d be a good idea, but doesn’t explain the other guy,” said Ant-Man. “What was his name again?”

“Moses Magnum, the X-Men fought him in the past,” said Storm.

“So did we,” said Ms. Marvel. “Few years back, after Tony and the others returned from Counter-Earth. Maybe he was out for revenge?”

“Possibly, but it doesn’t quite fit,” said Tony. “Why would Magnum wait all these years to come after us, especially when the only active Avengers who tangled with him were Carol and myself?” He looked at the synthezoid, who remained silent throughout the exchange. “Vision? Any theories?”

“Yes, although I believe it to be a bit more definitive than a theory,” said the Vision. “I think we have much to discuss…”

Artesia, New Mexico

Life in Artesia provided an excellent school system, a safe small-town environment, outdoor activities and frequent free-to-the public community events. Artesia was close to larger markets and an airport to take people to Dallas, Texas, not really so far away.

Artesia prided itself in excellent educational opportunities, art programs, a large variety of recreational activities, and an ever-broadening cultural landscape. The mild southwest setting offered year-round sunshine without pollution or traffic congestion.

The combined efforts of the business community, civic leaders and government agencies had enabled Artesia to foster a healthy entrepreneurial environment and diversified economy. The result had been steady and sustainable growth over the past decade with petroleum and agriculture leading the way. This was an exciting era for Artesia as it experienced valuable and desirable growth that set a perfect stage for excellent business opportunities.

Landmark projects such as the unique Heritage Walkway and the restored historic Artesia Depot had infused new life and vibrancy into the community. Neighborhood programs had helped restore numerous historic landmarks and buildings to their original luster.

The citizens of Artesia had been proud of their little city, set in the county of Eddy, the entire population barely topping fifty thousand. Their claim to fame had passed them by back in the fifties, when Roswell, just a short drive up Interstate 285 had become the center of controversy. Ask any resident, and they would say that they were thankful of that.

But of course, most citizens of Artesia were ignorant of what was happening a mere two hundred yards beneath their clean and congenial streets.

That, of course, was about to change…

Jeanette Vasquez had been out enjoying a typically pleasant and sunny day. She was walking her children; Jose, age two and Juanita, almost age two in the doublewide baby stroller along Main Street. Pascali her Pit Bull was straining on his leash, churning forward and sniffing at everything. Jeanette was juggling her Starbuck’s Latte’ and talking on her cell phone, basically ignorant of anything happening about her as she veered left and right and took up most of the sidewalk as she walked along the street.

She wrinkled her brow and looked about as she heard the annoying whine, which increased in pitch with every second. She could not find the source however and became just a bit miffed as the noise disrupted her call. “Hold on,” she told her sister as she stopped, several people thankful as they were finally able to slide by her on the sidewalk. She looked up, ignoring the rude grumblings of her fellow pedestrians and her face paled.

To her credit, she moved to cover her children, hoping to shield them from the coming impact…

The Missing Link slammed hard into Main Street. The impact shattered the blacktop for yards in every direction. Windows set in quiet storefronts shattered and the façade of the local Staples crumbled and fell away. The people on the street screamed and fell as the ground shook, the shock wave knocking most off of their feet but sending all staggering. Those screams rose in pitch immediately, most at the horror of seeing the poor woman and her two children obliterated by the bomb that had dropped in their midst. Being smarter than most humans, Pascali ran as fast and as far as his two legs would take him…

There were a few, those quick of wit, braver than most or just stupid that inched forward to see what had happened. Old Walt Morton stood from his usual spot on the bench in front of Mama Maria’s Diner and started to hobble away on his cane. He had been in Roswell when the collective shit had hit the fan and he wanted no part of that. Unfortunately Walt had seen better days and Roswell was half a century in his youth. He staggered off of Main and onto First and right into the flock of crows…

The Scarecrow stalked in jerking, halted steps towards the town’s center. He tried to resist—really he did—but the commands were too strong. He called forth the crows, the blackbirds, all the scavengers that he could gather and set them forth in a swirling mass to sweep the streets before him. He heard the screams, the people running in fear, panic overwhelming and he did not care. His carrion swooped and clawed and ravaged at his whim. And he staggered on…

State Trooper Ricardo Ruiz slammed on the brakes and set his cruiser into a skid. He leaped from the car, drawing his gun and ran forward towards the man in the bulky suit. He tried to ignore the bodies he passed, littering the street and pierced with small, thin darts, all bleeding, most dead. He ran to a point about twenty yards from the man and struck a pose, aiming his .9mm automatic, leveling it on the man in the queer armor.

“Freeze!” he shouted, and oddly the target did. At least for a moment…

The Porcupine turned and stared dumbly at the State Trooper.

“You’re under arrest!” Ruiz shouted. “Drop to the ground!”

A swarm of razor sharp quills spewed forth from the Porcupine’s exo-suit, piercing Trooper Ruiz head to toe. His one shot went wild, firing high and would eventually fell Maria Cortez who was running in blind panic, covered in pecking and clawing birds some half a mile away. Trooper Ruiz was dead before he hit the tarmac…

Lightmaster strolled down Desert Drive, his stride jerking slightly, but never deviating from its course. He cast his power outwards, and the citizens of Artesia stopped dead in their mad dash for freedom, trapped in cubes of light.

Soon after little robots would flutter forth, gathering the captured fodder and quickly converting them for a higher purpose…

Man-Ape raged as he loped through the outskirts of the city. He cared not for color or persuasion, but the ghetto had been his appointed goal and the migrant, illegal aliens that huddled there his task. M’Baku paid no heed to race or color. He ignored the screams as he grabbed and fondled flesh, his massive hands snapping the necks of any that came within reach. He secretly relished the purging, though not the demands of his master. He would rather slay the lesser mongrels of his own accord, rather than be ordered to.

Still, he continued…

And so it was through the streets of Artesia…

People died. And those that did not would soon wish they had….

Marvels stalked the streets of Artesia, New Mexico, and the world was in chaos…

But below…

Thunderbolt Base

The silver shadow stalked the halls of the military installation situated far below the streets of Artesia. He knew that the base had been formed not so long after Roswell; a nuclear installation set up to ward the American Southwest. Area 51 was not so far to the north and west, drawing attention from the true installation buried away from prying eyes these past decades.

But he knew.

He knew everything…

He rounded a corner and immediately bullets bounced and ricocheted from his impervious form, careening down reinforced hallways and spitting from lead-lined walls back to their source. He ignored the screams of the soldiers as their best efforts were thrown back at them. If he could smile, he would have.

The electrodes set in the side of his skull shifted slightly and a golden glow swept forth, enveloping the corridor. Those that yet lived shuddered once and then lay still on the immaculately clean tiles, save for the blood of course.

The armored silver form stalked forward and paused shortly, surveying the carnage and death that he had created.

“Purge, nephew,” he said with a hollow tone, and Nuklo radiated throughout the hallway, killing all within.

The monstrosity continued…

He came upon the Missing Link and glanced momentarily at the shattered, twisted body. The Carbonadium implants had held true, but the flesh- as always- had proved weak. The monstrosity stepped lightly over the used and abused flesh bag, showing the deceased that much consideration.

He came upon a door eventually. He cocked his head as information scrolled through his artificial intelligence. Finally he pressed on the door and with some effort, it collapsed inwards.

Again bullets riddled his frame, careening wildly.

Again, the Encephalo Beam spewed forth, rendering all within helpless.

And when all was silent, the silvery armored form stepped within the room beyond and surveyed his domain. He stared through the Plastisteel windows at the nuclear missiles ever poised to launch, pointed at various points about the world. It would be a simple matter to alter their courses for his purpose.

He did not care about Russia, or Cuba, or North Korea. They would all fall another day.

New York however…

London…

The robot turned to the glowing, hulking figure that shadowed his every step- as ordered. It was huge and riddled with Adamantium Beta, a Control Disk implanted on its brow and connected to other circuitry and implanted mechanisms to make the flesh docile and submissive. Ironically and annoyingly, they were related. Nuklo was once believed to be the stepbrother of the mutant cow that his erstwhile ‘son’ had taken as a wife. A tenuous connection, but it was enough.

“Nuklo…” Ultron said. “Purge!”

NEXT: Holy Shit! Well we finally learn who the silvery, shadowy form in the background was, but just what is Ultron up to? And just what will the Avengers do about it? Find out next issue as Dino and I swoop in and take on the Avengers’ debatably greatest villain with the new team…

Rise of the Machine: Part 1

Coming soon to a webpage near you…