On a bright and cheerful day in Manhattan, the birds chirped and the skies were blue. Packed streets and low humidity were the order of the day as the citizenry went through their respective grinds, bustling from place to place. Car horns blared and people shouted and cursed at the clogged traffic. Tourists wandered aimlessly snapping pictures of anything and everything.

A typical New York weekday, until…

A woman’s scream pierced the mundane noise of the city, high-pitched and wailing frantically. Usually uncaring, New Yorkers paused, turning to see the source of the odd noise and saw a woman drop to her knees, clutching her throat, a man already collapsed on the pavement before her, gasping for breath. Curious, a crowd of the ignorant gathered to watch, just to see what would happen, while other more seasoned veterans of Manhattan’s mean streets turned and began to run…

Too late.

A rending crash came as an MTA bus smashed through the tall glass windows lining the lobby of the Times Square Marriot. The bus driver could be seen ripping at his tie, gasping for breath, his face bloated and washed with sweat as the bus plows onward mowing down anything, and anyone in its path…

A man collapsed in the middle of the intersection of 42nd Street and Broadway, gagging as he dropped to his knees. Another started hacking and foaming at the mouth, a woman spat blood. A taxicab slammed through the rest of the panicking crowd trying to cross the street at break neck speed, sending bodies flying…

People started to fall more quickly, all clutching at their throats, all gasping for breath. An ambulance smashed through the Armed Forces Recruiting Station, out of control. Cars crashed and water spewed as a fire hydrant was ripped out of the ground. A fireball shot skyward as a Livery cab smashed into a hot dog cart, the butane tanks erupting on impact…

The fire seemed to roil and churn with a life of its own, spreading outward like a wave and riding the air currents. More screams as people burst into flames, flailing madly, running blindly as the conflagration spread, igniting more and more as it expanded. Chaos ensued in Times Square while uptown…

Manhattan
52nd Street and 7th Avenue
Citibank

All along Seventh Avenue people stopped to stare downtown at the raging conflagration, seemingly a cloud of fire roiling on the air. They heard the blaring horns, the crashes and thunderous explosions, and a few actually realized that the firestorm was heading their way. Slowly, one-by-one and then in groups finally as a mob the people started to panic and run and quickly the chaos spread along uptown just a few steps ahead of the carnage.

None noticed the swirling cloud of invisible helium as it drifted, blown on the wind ahead of the hydrogen-formed flames, forcing its way through the tall stone and steel buildings that created the fabled canyons of New York City. No one saw, as the helium seemed to shimmer momentarily, swelling in places and fading into solidity of pale green pastel. Frightened and running to save their lives, all ignored the slight form that took shape there in the afternoon shadows, curvy and obviously feminine, pale white skin and thickening brown hair falling slowly into place.

Ann Darnell backed against the cold, shadowed stone watching for a moment as her body settled fully, returning to flesh and blood. She smiled to see the ‘sheep’ running blindly from their slaughter, oblivious that the cause of their panic was just a few feet away. All had gone as Vector had predicted, so far at least. Simon Utrecht’s plans were always sound. It was generally the obligatory inclusion of some damned hero that screwed things up in the end. This time however, all was proceeding apace.

It had been her job to cause a distraction, and distract she had. Vector had chosen the afternoon rush in Times Square perfectly; the streets had been jam-packed with cars and pedestrians alike, and it had been a simple matter for her to simply drift into the hub of humanity as a colorless, odorless gas, totally unawares by her potential victims and then shift to something a bit more nasty.

Chlorine had been an excellent suggestion, easy to achieve and thick enough to overcome gravity and the air currents to spread out for maximum effect. It took a few moments to get things rolling, but when the first few victims fell, events dominoed swiftly out of control. And when the first fireball erupted it was easy then to shift to Hydrogen and lay waste to hundreds of the bleating masses.

The NYPD and NYFD, EMS and probably every other agency in the city would be bogged down for hours trying to regain control of the situation. And with any luck, any bleeding heart heroes that happened to be in the area would feel obligated to help out as well, leaving the U-Foes totally free and clear to achieve their true agenda.

Vapor laughed as she shoved through the glass doors of the bank, barely glancing at the bodies lying about the polished floor, fried to a crisp and smoldering. She wrinkled her nose at the stench however; waving her hand before her face as her brother smirked at her conceitedly.

“You are such a prick, Jimmy,” she said to her brother, slipping her sunglasses out of her pocket and over her eyes. In her human form she was not impervious to the glare that her brother’s X-Ray exuding form emitted, though she knew he was containing the radiation for her sake.

“Suck it up, sis,” Jimmy Darnell said, waving at the almost three dozen smoldering corpses scattered about the bank’s lobby, heaped along the ATM’s and collapsed behind the safety glass of the teller’s windows. “You know I had to be quick, so no little bitch back there got the idea to hit the panic button. When I’m quick, it gets messy. You don’t like the smell, gas yourself and sweeten the air.”

“Will you two stop your bickering?”

Ann was about to retort, but let the choice words dangle at the tip of her tongue as she glanced towards the back of the bank and the other two members of their quartet. Simon was standing near the ragged opening that once held the reinforced door that led towards the vaults situated far to the rear of the building. He was glaring at her and her brother, though in his form of continually shifting energy he always seemed to be glaring. Still, she knew he was, and he was right. They had to stay on cue and not squabble as that usually preluded to their downfall. Plenty of time to put her little brother back in his place when the job was over and done.

Beyond Vector and down the hall she could just see the glint of metal as the final member of the team did the heavy grunt work. Ironclad had already ripped away the huge vault door apparently and was busily loading the reinforced canvas sacks with whatever money he could gather, as much as he could carry. In that, Vector could help, and that was the plan, but she and Jimmy would be riding shotgun as neither could carry a thing in their full blown other forms of gas and radiation.

“We almost through?” she asked as she jogged towards Vector, stepping over two bodies that blocked her path without a care. Simon Utrecht nodded, and as she got to the outer ‘door’ she could see that Mike Steel was almost done, having cleared the vault of damn near everything worth taking. He was moving swiftly and efficiently, no longer the lumbering, hulkish thing that he had been directly after their space flight to duplicate the process that had created the Fantastic Four.

That had worked, but what a debacle their premiere had been. They had all been overwhelmed by their powers initially, and the Hulk had beaten them easily in the end. Hell, they had almost died their first time at bat, but over the years they had all learned to control their powers and were now quite adept and vicious in their use.

And no longer a joke, working as mercenaries had proved a lucrative turn of venue. They had made quite a name for themselves in South America, away from the Marvel Nexus that Manhattan had become. If not for the ungodly amount of money that they had been paid to come back to the States and rob this particular Citibank they would have stayed in Rio, soaking up the sun. They were all greedy black ducks however, and when their mysterious red-haired benefactor-slash-employer had waved eight digits in their collective faces, none could refuse.

“Sirens!” she heard her brother shout from the front of the bank and both she and Simon looked his way just as a fleet of fire engines and squad cars roared by on Seventh Avenue heading to the scene of what would probably be labeled as a ‘Terrorist Attack’.

“As expected, X-Ray,” Vector said coolly. “We’re right on schedule. Ironclad, you almost done?”

“Been done, Vec,” Steel replied as he stepped from the vault hefting two half-dozen bundled bags that Ann hoped were filled to the brim with money, gold and jewels. “Let’s go.”

They all ignored the corpses as they hurried towards the front of the bank, Vector scooping up two more bags and shouldering them, his powers to repel making them weigh as nothing. “How’s the streets, Jimmy?” he asked as they neared the wide glass windows.

“Few stray pedestrians mostly coming from their clogged cars. Traffic’s a bitch after that last convoy came through. No cops though. Coast is clear, boss.”

“Good. Then let’s—”

The bank shook as the sounds of a long, rolling explosion rumbled through. The wide glass windows looking out on the street shattered as the building seemed to almost heave and swell with a sudden swift change in air pressure. Ann screamed as shards of glass rocketed past her, slicing into her arm before Ironclad stepped in the way to block the deadly swarm.

“You okay?” he asked, glancing back, and she nodded, already shifting to a gaseous state, glowing faintly as neon so the others would see her.

“What the fuck was that?” X-Ray asked, staring out the jagged gaping hole. They all saw that the sky was darkening quickly and a wind was whistling through the streets strong enough to make the few stray civilians stagger as they tried to run for shelter. Ann watched as Vector waved his hand, sending a few foolish enough to scurry towards the bank sprawling back and away. It was starting to rain, she saw as light flared, the booming explosion following less than a heartbeat later.

“Thunder,” Vector said, looking out at the darkening street. “A storm. But so quick, you know what that means…” he said, his voice trailing off. Ann thought even as Ironclad voiced—

“Thor.”

“Let’s get the fuck outta dodge, people,” Vector said as he took to the air, his power to repel propelling him up and out of the bank, something he had learned over their months of secluded training.

Vapor drifted out of the bank window and immediately felt the forces of nature ripping at her gaseous form. She had to concentrate to hold herself together as the winds whipped through the manmade canyons and the rain started to pound with a savage ferocity. She vaguely saw her brother take flight, shooting up to point while Vector directed his powers at Mike, propelling him along. Thor was no doubt trying to quell the fires downtown, and if he was on hand how long before the Avengers take over? They had to get away…

“Look!” Ironclad said, pointing as he bounced along as though riding on an invisible rubber ball. “It ain’t the Avengers! It’s the X-Men!”

Vapor’s senses flowed and shifted in order to see what Steel was blathering about and saw a woman floating high over Times Square. Dressed in black and gold, her long, full mane of white hair whipping wildly in the wind, her dusky skin ablaze in a crackling ball of lightning, there was no doubt that it was Storm. But…

“Yo, Lead Butt!” her brother shouted over the howling wind and driving rain. “Don’t you read the papers? She ain’t no X-Man no more! She got upgraded to the Avengers!”

“You actually read?” a new voice shouted over the booming thunder of the sudden squall. Vapor shifted her senses again. In gaseous form she could ‘see’ everything in a queer, all-encompassing view, but even after all the years of practice it was still hard to focus. Still she did, just in time to see Warbird come streaking out of the storm to slam into Ironclad, knocking him from Vector’s repellant field and both slamming into the street with a tremendous BOOM!

“With the Internet, and just plain old television I would have thought that the printed media would have faded by now,” another voice said, this one booming and amplified with a distinctive hollow sound. Vapor looked and saw above the crimson and gold icon hovering easily in the midst of the raging tempest.

“Oh, fuck…” she thought, coalescing and shifting to a gas that might be able to counter what the Golden Avenger might throw against them.

“It’s always nice to see the old ways hold true however,” the Iron Man said raising his hands so that all could see the irises in his gauntlets open wide. There was a click and whir of circuitry and Vapor could hear the power build within the Iron-Man’s armor. “U-Foes, under Federal Authority, you are under arrest. I’m sure you know your rights by now. Stand down! You have three seconds…”

Ann Darnell’s inner clock ticked once, and the battle was joined…

AND THERE CAME A DAY…

Part II

By Curtis Fernlund and Dino Pollard

The Johnson family came to New York from Iowa on their children’s summer vacation, enjoying the chance to escape to the big city for a few days. Little did they expect they would find themselves in the middle of a massive brawl between superhumans, the kind of thing they had only read about or seen on television.

The two daughters, Stacy age nine and Diane age twelve, had gotten separated from their parents during the commotion and now, they forgot their usual sibling rivalry and clutched each other tightly as debris collapsed down around them.

But they felt nothing. When they looked up, they saw tight muscles rippling beneath an outfit of red, white and blue, complete with a giant star emblazoned over chain mail. The dark-skinned man who wore a red bandana over his eyes and bald head held the falling rubble up, his arms straining to hold the shield.

Next came an unmistakable scent that reminded the girls of rotten eggs. Thin arms attached to three-fingered hands wrapped around both girls and that scent came again combined with a flash of light. When their vision cleared, the Johnson girls found they were across the street, near an ambulance. Their savior had the face of a demon—indigo skin and matching hair with glowing yellow eyes, fangs, and a pointed tail. He wore an outfit of red, white and black, but that demonic visage, almost impossibly, seemed to contain a kind soul.

“No more tears, liebchan.” His words were tinged with a German accent as he wiped the tear from Stacy’s face. “You are safe now, I give you my word.”

“NIGHTCRAWLER!”

The demon looked towards the black man draped in the image of the American flag. He pointed towards rubble and Nightcrawler nodded in response before looking back at the girls.

“Stay here with the paramedics, they will take care of you,” he said with a smile and then offered a bow. Just as he completed the movement, he vanished once more in his signature style.

Carol Danvers exchanged blow and thunderous blow with the massive Ironclad. The steel-covered man decreased his weight, so he could confront Warbird up in the air on her own turf. But given the way Carol could effortlessly maneuver herself, he began to think that it wasn’t one of his better ideas.

“That the best you can do?” she taunted. “C’mon Ironclad, I thought you were able to take on the Hulk? The rate you’re going, you wouldn’t even be able to take on my grandmother!”

“Ohhh just keep pushing me, bitch…” muttered Ironclad.

“Gladly,” said Warbird, barreling into him with all her strength. The pair of them shot towards the skies, Storm’s rain soaking them to the bone. Once she got high enough, Warbird changed tactics and hurled Ironclad from her, his metal body flying into a building. During the tussle, the bag he held fell down, spreading the ill-gotten gains among the thankful New Yorkers.

Warbird flew back after Ironclad, but once she came within range, he came back at her with an uppercut that almost took her head off. Her own power reserves seemed to be drained and she looked up at the skies to her old friend.

“Storm, I could use a hand,” she said.

Ororo Munroe said nothing, but her eyes glowed as lightning fired from the sky, striking Warbird. Once, she possessed the energy of a star, but now she had to charge up her reserves on occasion. And now, thanks to Storm’s gift, she felt herself rising back to full strength.

Ironclad jumped at her and Warbird raised her hands, cutting loose with a powerful burst of energy that threw him back where he had come from. Warbird flew after him like a rocket, her fists striking him even harder than they had before.

Vector held out his hands, utilizing his telekinesis to try and draw Iron Man into his repellent field. The leader of the Avengers found himself drawn in and moving closer and closer to the leader of the U-Foes. Vector smiled, but then he realized that Iron Man wouldn’t stop moving closer. He tried to force him back but with no luck. The smile faded as Iron Man came closer and raised his fist, slamming it against Vector’s jaw.

“Internal gyroscopes, Utrecht,” said Iron Man. “Don’t you realize you’re dealing with a man who’s smarter, more capable, and a better businessman than you?”

“Fuck you, Stark!” shouted Vector. “If I can’t control you, I’ve got other methods at my disposal!”

Tony’s sensors warned him of a large, incoming mass and he turned, unleashing the uni-beam from his chest plate to destroy the car Vector had telekinetically thrown at him.

Vector had backed off, more vehicles rising up and being thrown at Iron Man, one after another. Stark did his best to avoid most of them, but had to blast a few away. Then he noticed one of them contained a family trapped inside. Iron Man braced himself and caught the car within his grasp, straining against its weight as well as Vector’s power fighting him.

“Cmon…c’mon…”

“Let’s see how well you can deal with two of them, Shellhead!” Vector grinned, raising another car and prepared to hurl it at Iron Man as well when a red, white and blue blur streaked through the air, striking him in the back. Vector shouted in pain as he fell and the shield flew back into the waiting hands of Josiah X, the new Captain America.

“Thanks Jo—Cap,” said Iron Man, lowering the car and the family inside. He understood why Steve Rogers had left the role and he knew Josiah was a worthy replacement. But it didn’t make it any easier calling another man Cap.

“Don’t mention it,” said Captain America. “What’s their deal?”

“Call themselves the U-Foes. That was Simon Utrecht, a Reed Richards wannabe,” said Iron Man. “They replicated the Fantastic Four’s famous space flight and have proven to be a pain in the ass ever since.” Iron Man surveyed the rest of the battle. “Vector’s down, looks like Vision and Warbird have Vapor and Ironclad in hand, and Storm’s taking care of the fires. How’s the crowd control?”

“Nightcrawler and I have been getting the bystanders to safety as quick as we can, but saw Vector and thought you could use my throwing arm,” said Captain America.

“It came in handy,” said Iron Man. He looked at the unattended U-Foe and his thrusters engaged. “Get back to Nightcrawler, I’ll handle X-Ray.”

The Vision hovered as the gaseous form of Vapor flowed around him, switching to different forms, trying to find a chemical composition that could damage the synthezoid. His android nature made it impossible to deprive him of oxygen or to poison him with some form of gas, but Darnell hoped she could find something that would prove corrosive to his body.

Meanwhile, the Vision had plans of his own. His android mind catalogued each form Vapor assumed, filing it away in his memory banks. Each time she changed, he analyzed the consistency and chemical composition of every form she took on. He had been working on a solution from the moment he first took her on.

The Vision’s body solidified a little at a time, altering his density until he could reach just the exact amount needed and then Ann Darnell cried out in shock, her vaporous form converting back to human as she fell to the ground. The Vision flew after her and once she looked up, she began to transform once more.

“I do not think that would be prudent,” said the Vision. The gem on his forehead glowed and his eyes erupted with his stored reserves of solar energy, taking the U-Foe out of the game and rendering her unconscious.

“VISION, WATCH OUT!”

The Vision went intangible as the form of Iron Man flew through his phased body. His gaze followed the armored Avenger, who now righted himself. The Vision looked where Iron Man had come from and saw X-Ray approaching, his body glowing with the radioactive energy barely contained inside him.

“Would you care for some assistance?” asked the Vision.

“If you’re not too busy,” said Iron Man.

“No, Vapor has already been dealt with.”

“Ann…?” X-Ray looked down at the unconscious form of his sister and he cried out in rage. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SISTER?”

The Vision reached his hand out to Iron Man’s shoulder, phasing them both as X-Ray’s radioactive blast flew through them. When the Vision released him, they both shifted back to their regular density.

“If you must know, I shocked her body back into human form by matching the density of her vaporous form. And then I knocked her unconscious with a blast of solar energy,” said the Vision.

“Yeah well try some radioactive energy, 3P0!” shouted X-Ray. Before he could cut loose with another blast of radiation, he failed to notice Ironclad’s body flying into him from behind. The two U-Foes crashed to the ground and Warbird hovered into the scene beside Iron Man and the Vision.

“Sorry to butt in like that, boys,” she said.

“Your assistance is timely and most appreciated, Warbird,” said the Vision.

She offered a smile to the synthezoid. “Always the charmer, Vizh.”

“This isn’t over, assholes!” shouted X-Ray. The winds picked up slightly as Storm descended.

“Yes it is,” she said. With a gesture, the clouds opened and lightning poured forth, flowing through Ironclad and into X-Ray, continuing until the last of the U-Foes fell unconscious.

The Damocles Chamber

“Well… that went well.”

The monitor banks that surrounded the inner circle of Control showcased the battle in Manhattan between the Avengers and the U-Foes. One of the men shook his head as he witnessed the footage of Storm dispersing the flames with a combination of wind and rain and Nightcrawler transporting victims to safety, even cheering some of them up with circus antics once the danger had passed.

“They’ve even got positive portrayals of mutants,” he said. “With the combination of the X-Corps debacle, the attack on Empire State, and the terrorist X-Men, we had been very successful in beginning to turn public opinion against the mutants once more. These two…they could ruin everything. They’re even worse than the Scarlet Witch or that damn blue monkey.”

“We know the Avengers are effective, that was never in question,” said another voice. “But after all that crap with Doom and the Skull, they were back to square one. This is a big step in them reestablishing their credentials and we will use this to our advantage.”

“Speaking of which…”

One of the monitors changed to a broadcast from inside the United Nations. The Monarch of Latveria stood at the podium, clad in his unmistakable silver armor and green tunic. He spoke with authority and regality, his tone as if he were doing these world leaders a great favor by even speaking to them.

“Latveria’s borders will remain closed until this crisis has passed. The world is in disarray and the blight created by the Red Skull touches us all, worldwide. Latveria shall rise of course, but it will take time to rebuild. The Skull struck my homeland hard, with a vendetta and it will be weeks before we might rejoin the world community. But rest assured that Latveria shall reemerge as a world leader again. Doom has spoken.”

“At least he’s contained for the moment.”

“Doom’s no fool. He knows something else is going on. We’d be wise to turn him into an ally.”

“Absolutely not. There is no trusting a man like Doom. If you bring him in, it won’t be long until he’s turned us all against each other and taken this organization for his own purposes.”

“What would he have to gain if he did?”

“Power, that’s all Doom has ever wanted.”

“Quiet, all of you. T’Challa is holding a press conference.”

The Black Panther stood before a podium marked with the X-Corporation symbol and behind him was draped the flag of Wakanda. He wore the ceremonial garb of the protector of his people.

“Thank you for attending. I have only a brief statement and I will not be taking any questions after,” he began. “As you know, both the X-Corporation and Wakanda have contributed to the rebuilding and restructuring of the Avengers. Therefore, given my role as the monarch of Wakanda, an advisor to X-Corporation and an inactive Avenger, I have been asked to address the media on the recent terrorist attack in New York while the Avengers oversee the search and rescue efforts.

“The U-Foes have all been apprehended and are being transported to a superhuman holding facility. The attack was quick and devastating, but fortunately, the Avengers arrived within moments to quell the damage and prevent massive loss of life. This new team has proven their effectiveness in the field, and any doubts that have been expressed about this new roster should now be allayed.

“The Avengers shall be working hand-in-hand not only with the American government and law enforcement agencies, but with those from all across the world, especially SHIELD. Not only the Avengers but heroes from all over should be acclaimed and supported in their efforts to safeguard this planet from the forces that seek to tear it apart. The Avengers have proven themselves numerous times over the years and have saved the universe countless times and this new team shall strive to uphold that brave legacy.

“Thank you.”

Nightwing Restorations

Ben Grimm sat in a darkened room watching the news feed with a beer in hand. Although the inner offices of Misty Knight and Colleen Wing are generally well kept and clean, a pile of garbage sat about his chair of choice. He listened to the Panther’s propaganda and shook his head, lighting a cigar.

“So they got to you too, T’Challa,” he mused, downing the last of his beer before tossing the can away. He puffed on his cigar, watching with interest.

The Deserts of New Mexico
An abandoned Laboratory of Bruce Banner

The silver coated form stood mute and uncaring as the sack of flesh screamed.

Basil Sandhurst writhed in his bondage as the machinery trawled over his emaciated form, probing, sucking out his every detail. He pulled at the restraints as a thick tube attached to his member pumped him for all his manly worth, the clear, plastic tubing dancing as his fluids slid out and away, only to vanish into the machinery that dominated the bulk of open space within the cavern. The armored form adjusted a dial and moved away, hovering over another body that lays unmoving, mechanical bits and pieces attached to his skin and poking into his inner being.

“Stand,” the hollow voice commanded and the body on the table jerked, light emitting diodes flaring and then fading. The body stirred as its eyes opened and it gasped for air.

“Stand up,” the voice commanded once more, and eventually the brutish form rose, the Man-Bull swinging its legs to the floor tentatively, then standing. The armored form watched, waiting for signs of weakness, but after a moment’s sway of uncertainty, he nodded. He stared at the circuitry embedded in the skin of the brute, metal digging into his flesh, stabbing into his feeble mind.

“Flesh is weak,” he said, directing the creature to the far side of the room to join the other successes. “A pity,” he mused, turning back to Sandhurst.

He watched as another body rolled forward for assimilation. A distended mockery of humanity, even by his standards. He glanced at the computer monitor, reading the facts and data on the latest subject even as the machinery affixed itself to the mockery’s skin at temple, throat, genitals, and more. The creature screamed despite the sedatives, writhing in its bonds as the implants were put in place.

Sandhurst squirmed as another chunk of his soul was bitten off and spat away.

“The Missing Link,” said the armored form, its face unchanging as he watched the process take hold…

Watching as his army of monstrosities grew…

NEXT: Just what is going on? The Avengers take out the U-Foes post haste but there are odd whispers and rumors of a bigger picture, in which the Avengers are involved. Just what is Control up to, and who is the evil armored figure that has been sticking to the shadows? Find out next issue as the senseless violence gets kicked up a notch—BAM! And the Avengers take on the…

Well, that would be telling.

ASSEMBLE!

So, I’ve wanted to do Avengers since coming onto fanfic. It’s THE one title in mainstream that I have every issue of up until three years ago. A few years back you may recall that I got the chance to write with Chris Munn the Dream Cross-over between the Avengers and JLA at M2K and JLU: 2001! That was great, but left me just with a greater desire to write Avengers…

Along came Dino Pollard now close to TWO years ago saying that he would need another writer on Avengers at Marvel Omega once Derrick Ferguson ended his fantastic run, of which I got to join in with a couple FF stories, giving me a chance to gang bang with Dino and Derrick, which was great! I was given Avengers at last. At which point we all got distracted…

Now… Later… storylines are finished and I get to write and plot at least half the Avengers for Omega. Dino had some ideas and took over the writing slot proper, with me plotting, which is fine. My free time is one decimal place above Nil at the moment so it all works out. And of course anyone who has received a plot/prop from me knows that I include segments of story, sometimes several pages worth. I’m looking forward to again working with Dino, as we do seem to synch rather well. I have the first six issues plotted, and stories beyond hammering in my head, so there should be no shortage of Avengers at Omega for some time to come…

And speaking of coming, I’ll paraphrase Chris Munn from ages ago (as I don’t recall the full quote or context): “Curt Fernlund writing Avengers is a wet dream come true!”

And it is for me too.

Be afraid…

Curt F
7/14/09