Earth-31917
Another Time…

Alexander Swan spat blood and the remnants of a tooth into the litter strewn gutter as he tried to shake off the effects of the blow that had sent him reeling to the pavement. The bitch was fast; he’d give ‘im that much. Even with his augmented speed and reflexes, Swan hadn’t seen the Asp as it had whipped out smashing into his face.

He spat again, looking up at the Nig-nug clad head to toe in stiff black leather. The git was grinnin’ down at ‘im, snappin’ ‘is Extendo in and out, no doubt for effect. Only reason he knew the man was black was because of his two shots that had scored; the flesh wound that had ripped through the armor and exposed the man’s dark skin. Not that it mattered, black or white or fuckin’ Eskimo, Swan had ta take ‘im out. The fate of the world rested on his winning…

Again!

SNIKT

“You could always surrender,” the man said. Swan could see the man’s facial muscles twisting the full leather hood as his grin broadened into a wide smile. He could imagine the bright white teeth gleaming beneath the mask with the man’s arrogance. Bloody arse!

SNAKT

“Not fuckin’ likely, ya bloody poof,” Swan said as he held his Magnum up. Wavering, but the man at least had enough respect for his marksmanship to know that he was too far away for the killing blow. Knew too that the frangibles Swan had loaded would blow right through that leather armor like it was tissue paper, and the flesh underneath then rattle around inside the body a bit, rippin’ the shit outta Mister Nighthawk’s innards. Gave him a bit of breathin’ room, an’ let him try ta push back the pain in his shattered right hand.

SNIKT

Felt like the fuckin’ bird man ‘ad broken every bone in ‘is bleedin’ right ‘and. Fuckin’ shattered ‘is Chopper in the process too. Would’a been nice t’ end this fiasco with a well-placed concussion shell, but this Nighthawk was quick in the wit department too. Figured take out the weapon ya take out the threat, no doubt. Course he didn’t know the Black Knight.

The Empire’s answer ta Captain bloody America, Swan had been injected with Reinstein’s Super Soldier Serum decades ago, and later exposed to the Vita Rays, not ta mention a bit of DNA splicing with some ‘borrowed’ Canadian Mutie’s genes. His body was Ultra-ed up to be the best that humanity had to offer; faster, stronger, more agile than the average git on the street, Alexander Swan had joined MI-6, worked with SHIELD and later became an Avenger when Captain America and Bucky had gone insane. His marksmanship had been his trademark, and even off-hand he was one of the world’s best shots. Figured Nighthawk at least suspected that given the other wound in the man’s left thigh.

SNAKT

Swan flicked his gun, sighting as Nighthawk shifted his stance easing the weight off of his wounded leg. The Asp slipped out of sight behind him as the man turned to profile. “I can make it quick,” he said as a blackened sliver of razor-sharp metal slid from the housing on the back of his plated gloves.

“Oh, it’ll be quick, Birdie,” Swan said as he raised his arm and fired. He saw Nighthawk move, a dark blur as the man seemed to flow in a thousand directions at once. He heard the metallic CLANG as his bullet was swatted out of the air by the blunted titanium Extendo. He heard the faint ‘huff’ of air as the man’s vaunted ‘Hawk Hook’ shot forward from the back of his glove even as Nighthawk arched back and flipped out of the line of fire.

“Gnngh!” Swan exclaimed as the blade dug into his biceps even as he tried to roll out of the way. He heard the gun clatter to the filthy blacktop as his left arm grew numb. “Bloody ‘ell,” he gasped just in time to see the dark boot heel before it slammed into his jaw with the impact of a round-house kick…

Somewhere Else
That Infinity between Seconds…

Aron grimaced as he watched the display seeing another Avenger—the crucial Avenger this time—crumble and fall. The Black Knight hit the pavement hard, shuddered once, then lay still. Aron hoped he was dead, but if not, he soon would be. He had lost, and thus so too had Aron.

“Game, set and match…”

Aron glanced away as that multi-dimensional view faded focusing instead on the tall, gaunt, blue-skinned Elder of the Universe. The crotchety old ‘man’ was smirking, brimming with arrogance at his victory.

“I truly thought that round would go to you, Watcher,” the Grand Master said and Aron did not miss the insult.

“I’ve asked you not to call me that,” Aron said, his mood darkening. He did not care about the monkeys overburdening the myriad Earths in the Multi-Verse. He hated them in fact, for the countless times that they had stymied his plans. If the ‘Sketch’ Earth was to be wiped clean of the Human infestation, so be it. He did not like to lose, however, and liked even less to be mocked. “I resigned my affiliation with my one-time brethren long ago, old man. I found the scope of their goals and views stagnant and limited.”

The Grand Master smirked, which caused the Rogue Watcher to seethe all the more. Were it within his power he would wipe the smugness from the wrinkled blue face, but Aron knew that the Elder’s abilities probably exceeded his own.

“Regardless… Aron… I seem to have won. Thus the world of your chosen champions vanishes into the endless abyss of Chaos, and as victor in our game I would have my prize.”

Aron stared at the Grand Master’s outstretched hand and scowled. He sniffed, contemplating simply leaving, but finally, grudgingly nodded with a sigh. He held out his own hand and conjured forth the sparkling onyx ‘egg’, which was his offering in the Grand Master’s game. A Mundane Egg it was called by some, containing the inner spark to create a new universe; a new dimension in the Multi-Verse. Aron had yet to find a use for it worthy of his grand schemes, but apparently the Elder of the Universe coveted it for his own ends. No matter…

Aron dropped the egg into the yellow-gloved hand, watched as the gangly fingers enclosed it, causing it to vanish. “I do hope for a rematch one day, old man,” he said as he glared into the Elder’s darkly glowing eyes. The Grand Master smirked.

“Of course, Rogue. I am always up for sport. It is my life, after all…”

Aron sneered as the Grand Master faded away with his prize leaving the Rogue Watcher alone in the swirling crimson mists. He turned his attention briefly to the image of the Sketch Earth now spiraling towards its sun as the star expanded, preparing to go nova, the pull of its gravity dragging the worlds of its system in. It would set off a chain reaction that would sweep through that mirror universe, cleansing it swiftly of all life, all matter and energy. And when blessed Chaos reigned no doubt the Grand Master would step in and employ his prize, cracking open his egg and setting himself up as a god.

Let him. Aron did not care. He had his own designs and schemes; a myriad already set in motion. In fact, he thought, perhaps this day’s defeat could be turned to another day’s victory. There were wheels within wheels.

Aron smiled as he willed away the view of the dying universe, focusing instead on the swirling image of another Earth and its questionable, alleged heroes…

THE SQUADRON SINISTER STRIKES!

Part I

By Curtis Fernlund and Dino Pollard

Hospital For Special Surgery
535 East 70th Street

Still confined to her hospital bed, Carol Danvers flipped aimlessly through the channels on the television screen. Nothing seemed to catch her interest, such was the curse of daytime TV. During the battle with Ultron, she had been forced to use her energy absorption powers to take in radiation from an atomic weapon. Although she had succeeded and was recovering with remarkable speed, the former USAF pilot was antsy.

There had been some coverage of an incident on Avengers Island involving the Awesome Android, but the press had no further details beyond that. The Avengers, SHIELD and the mayor were keeping silent about the matter.

A knock came from the door and Carol clicked off the television. “Come on in.” The door opened and a blond man in a t-shirt and jeans entered the room with a smile, a hand behind his back. Carol smiled back at him.

“Clint? What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Thought you might wanna see an attractive face,” said Clint Barton. The archer known as Hawkeye pulled the arm from behind his back, revealing a bouquet of flowers. “Figure you save half the country from nuclear annihilation, that’s worth a fifty dollar bundle of weeds.”

“You shouldn’t have,” said Carol.

“Ah, it was nothing.”

“Avengers expense account?” asked Carol.

Clint offered a sly grin and a wink. “Don’t tell Tony.”

“What are you doing in town anyway?” she asked. “I thought you were running around with Zemo.”

“Guess Tony didn’t tell anyone, huh?”

“Tell us what?”

Clint sat on the edge of Carol’s bed. “The Thunderbolts…it’s not what I originally signed up with.”

“Clint, you were working under Baron Zemo. What did you expect?”

“After what happened on Counter-Earth, the man changed. He was different, Carol. Doin’ good work. I thought it best to keep an eye on him, just to make sure, but then…” Clint paused. “The last job we were on, it didn’t end well. Strucker got his own team of supergoons past the castle’s defenses an’ we lost Abe.”

“Abe Jenkins?” asked Carol.

Clint nodded. Carol reached out and patted his hand.

“I’m sorry. I know you did a lot of work, helping him reform.”

“For all the good it did,” said Clint. “Anyway, after we lost Abe, I realized this wasn’t what I wanted to be doin’. Mel also couldn’t be there anymore. So I got in touch with Tony, he said he’d be more than happy to give me back my old slot—even offered one to Mel, too.”

“And Zemo?”

“Well, all I can really say is that for now, he’s keepin’ Hydra busy. Guess it’s better to have ’em fightin’ amongst each other than tryin’ to take over the world, huh?”

“Tough choices and all that,” said Carol. “So, were you there? On the Island?”

“You mean the attack? Yeah, we got there right in the thick of it.”

“What happened?” asked Carol. “The press doesn’t have a lot to go on and I haven’t seen anyone from the team since before the attack.”

“The Mad Thinker,” said Clint. “Bastard caused a real mess usin’ the Awesome Android. Good thing I was there to save the day.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure it all came down to you and your magic arrows,” said Carol with a smirk.

“Don’t doubt my abilities, babe. Tellin’ ya, if Tony had any sense, he’d just stand down and tell me to lead this group.”

“Great, so now we’re going to have to deal with two alpha males in the group?”

“What’s the verdict on you?” asked Clint.

“Doctors say I’m healing up nicely, but still not as fast as I’d like. Reed said the energy I absorbed temporarily burned out my powers.”

“You know for how long?” asked Clint.

Carol shook her head. “No clue. Hope it’s not too long, though. And hope I can get out of this damn bed soon.”

“Nothin’ to worry about, kid—you’ll be up an’ kickin’ ass again in no time,” said Clint.

Avengers Island

“Care to tell me what exactly my job is?”

Tony Stark had been testing out a new underwater security perimeter shield just installed. In the aftermath of the Mad Thinker’s attack, combined with the attack from Moses Magnum and the Wrecking Crew, it was now time to improve the defenses. Unfortunately, he found himself distracted by SHIELD Agent Maria Hill.

Stark sat on an upper platform in his laboratory and Hill stood beneath the platform staring up at him through the clear floor. Her arms were crossed, a scowl on her face, and she impatiently tapped her foot waiting for his response.

“You’ve been here for some time now,” said Tony. “If you still don’t know what your job is, maybe you’re not doing so hot.”

“Maybe I’m not doing so hot because I’m not given the access I need.” Hill ascended the metal staircase up to the platform. Stark continued to ignore her, focused on the holographic screen in front of him that showed an overview of Avengers Island. “I’m not used to being ignored, Stark.”

Tony continued to keep his attention focused on the screens as he replied. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a little bit busy at the moment. You know, that whole matter of supervillains constantly attacking our home? I’m trying to make that just a bit harder. So I apologize if I can’t play guidance counselor for you.”

Hill removed something from one of the pouches on her belt and shoved it in front of Tony’s face. It was her Avengers ID card. “Do you see what that says on it, Stark? It says SHIELD Liaison. Not ‘executive secretary,’ not ‘publicist,’ but I’m this team’s liaison to the most prestigious intelligence agency on the globe. Do you get that?”

Tony slowly turned to face her. “I can read, Ms. Hill.”

“Agent Hill.”

Tony sighed. “Okay, you have my absolute and undivided attention for the next…” He checked his watch. “Twenty seconds. Starting…now.”

“I am a trained SHIELD special agent, I worked my ass off to get where I am. I was hand-selected from a very long list of candidates for this position. And yet during battles, I’m constantly being told to hang back. I’m always finding myself shut out of Avengers meetings or even worse yet, not even knowing about them until after the fact. And furthermore—”

“Sorry, time’s up,” said Tony.

“That was not twenty seconds!” said Hill.

“Good lord, my watch must be fast. I’ll have to have that looked at.”

“This is serious, Stark. If you don’t include me, I can’t do my job. I don’t even have full access to the databases here on the Island! You’ve got secure rooms here that I don’t have clearance for.”

“Hill, let’s be clear about this,” said Stark. “By order of the United Nations, Avengers Island is a sovereign state. The leader of that state—being me—gets to determine who gets access to what. You are simply a liaison and barring any UN resolutions which say otherwise, are only allowed as much clearance as is necessary to do your job.”

“And how do I know you’re not building weapons of mass destruction in those secret rooms of yours?” asked Hill.

“Simple—you don’t. But the UN trusts me and it’s time you do the same. Otherwise, I can easily request a new liaison,” said Stark. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the mayor in a few minutes and he wants to see what further enhancements we’ve made to security.”

“Funny, I thought it was about discussing tourism,” said Hill.

“It’s about security,” said Stark, but then paused for a moment and continued with, “…okay, and tourism. But mostly security. Either way, it’s an important meeting and if you don’t get out of my face, I’m going to be late and unprepared for it.”

Hill hesitated before she turned her back to him and stormed down the staircase. “This isn’t even close to being over, Stark.”

“I think I made a new friend,” muttered Tony

New Jersey

Zhib-Ran flew close behind Alice Nugent. She was a former lab assistant to Hank Pym and now, the current bearer of the Power Prism and the latest to take the name of Doctor Spectrum. Zhib-Ran wasn’t quite sure what to make of her yet, although he did take pleasure in flying behind her as the costume she wore clung perfectly to her flawless figure.

Doctor Spectrum paused in the air and descended. Hyperion followed suit and they descended through an open skylight of a warehouse. There were two men inside waiting for them, both black and one who wore a costume reminiscent of Hyperion’s former teammate, the Whizzer. The other was dressed in black leather.

“So this is the Mark Milton of this world?” asked the man in a costume similar to the Whizzer.

“My name isn’t Milton, it’s Zhib-Ran,” said Hyperion. “Who are these people, Spectrum?”

“Stanley Stewart, the Blur. And this is Kyle Richmond, Nighthawk.”

“Stewart and Richmond aren’t black,” said Hyperion.

“Maybe not on your world,” said the Blur.

“I don’t suppose we’ll have any problems with this, will we, Hyperion?” asked Nighthawk.

“Just what are you implying, Richmond?” asked Hyperion. “I don’t discriminate—all humans are the same weak fleshbags, useless except as my playthings.”

Nighthawk said nothing and pulled his mask on. It matched the rest of his costume, except for the yellow lenses, which were not unlike the eyes of an owl.

“I hope you won’t have any trouble taking orders from one of those weak fleshbags,” said Doctor Spectrum.

Hyperion’s eyes flashed with the raw power his alien physiology could generate. “Excuse me? What makes you think we’re going to take orders from you?”

“And what makes you think we’ll take them from you?” asked Nighthawk.

“The Doc’s the one who brought us together, Hype. Figure we owe her something,” said the Blur.

“Not only that, but I’m the one with the plan.” Doctor Spectrum strode up to Hyperion without fear or hesitation. He towered over her, but she stood her ground, staring right into his eyes, calling him on his challenge. “Or have you already forgotten that?”

Hyperion was surprised at the woman’s courage. Even somewhat impressed. And he relented. “Fine. We’ll do it your way for now, bitch.”

Manhattan
The Financial District

She could have bought the building…

Money of course was never a problem. How could it be to someone who could create gold from dross, a silk purse from a sow’s ear. Alchemy was the simplest of her abilities, though of course her magicks were limited on Midgard.

Still, money was the least of her worries. She had settled on the entire upper floor of the Hokano Building, renamed in the latter part of the Twentieth Century by the Japanese commodities corporation that had purchased it after the Internet Day Trading bubble had burst leaving so many destitute. The Kazi Corporation had been more than happy for the tidy sum she had offered and did not care as to the modifications that she had wanted to implement. She had kept much as is; the offices and working environment, but she had also reformed a goodly portion of the floor as a living space, resplendent in those few Earthly things that she found appealing. The sheep did not have much to offer for an Immortal, but there were a few luxuries that she enjoyed.

Amora sipped at her coffee as she watched the hustle and bustle of Wall Street far, far below. The floor to ceiling windows allowed her a grand view of the Financial District, and she loved to simply stare out at the vista; Governor’s Island, Staten Island in the distance beyond, and of course the mortals scurrying about on the tightly packed streets beneath her. They seemed so concerned, so intent on their fleeting lives, so stressed and determined. It was to laugh. Their brief ambitions barely left a ripple in the grandeur of Odin’s vision.

Amora turned from the windows and strolled across the vast expanse of her offices towards the case that displayed her prize possession, heels clacking on the polished marble floor. She set her coffee mug aside as her fingers trailed across the thick, cool glass containing her prize. She ‘saw’ the spark of energy, the blade crackling with proximity, reaching out to her caress and she smiled as a warmth washed through her.

She would need to find someone worthy soon. It would be hard in the chattel. There were so few on Midgard that held the proper ideals to be but a shadow of Skurj, yet somewhere she knew she would find someone; heroic… dedicated… worthy. For her plans to go forth, she needed to find her Blood Axe, her Executioner…

And then the revenge of the Enchantress could commence.

Avengers Island

Hand-picked by Steve Rogers himself, Josiah X was the latest man to bear the name and the legacy of Captain America. With years of experience under his belt, having served in the Vietnam War and worked as a mercenary, Josiah had certainly proven himself capable in the role. Except now, he looked uneasy.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Kurt?” he asked.

Kurt Wagner appeared by Josiah’s side in a burst of light accompanied by the scent of brimstone. The demonic appearance of the mutant called Nightcrawler proved a sharp contrast to the heroic and deeply religious man. Kurt perched himself on the back of the couch and handed Josiah the bowl of popcorn.

“Of course! An Errol Flynn movie marathon, what better way to relax after two supervillain attacks?” asked Kurt.

“Honestly, I’d rather be training,” said Josiah.

“Mein freund, you need to have a little fun! Let your hair down! Well…figuratively speaking,” said Kurt. “Especially with that Keller spreading those lies about you every night.”

“Don’t remind me,” muttered Josiah. Todd Keller was a television pundit who had made it his personal mission to link Josiah to every conspiracy theory populating the Internet. He had even gone as far as to claim Josiah was responsible for the death of Steve Rogers.

Kurt picked up a case filled with DVDs. “Which one should we start with? Captain Blood? Adventures of Don Juan? The Charge of the Light Brigade?”

Josiah tossed a few popcorn kernels into his mouth. “I’m really not sure…”

“Well which is your favorite?”

“I don’t really have one…”

“Oh come on! Everyone has a favorite Flynn movie!” said Kurt.

“I’ve…well, I’ve actually never seen any of them,” said Josiah.

Kurt’s jaw practically dropped, staring at his new friend with wide, yellow eyes. Josiah couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the mutant’s reaction to such a statement. After a few moments of silence, Kurt finally found the words to speak again.

“You’ve…never seen an Errol Flynn movie?”

Josiah shook his head.

“But…how?”

The imam shrugged. “Before my time. I was never that big on movies to begin with.”

Kurt smiled and slapped his friend on the back. “Well you are in luck, mein freund! Today, we turn you into a Flynn follower! And I believe we shall start with The Adventures of Robin Hood!”

Empire State Building

The Vision in his human disguise as Victor Shade watched as Melissa Gold walked up to the edge of the observation deck of the Empire State Building. Camera in hand, she snapped several photographs of the New York skyline. She turned back and smiled at him and he approached her casually.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” he said.

“It’s the first time I’ve ever really had a chance to,” said Melissa. “Most of the times I’ve been in New York were for heists or fights. And even when the Thunderbolts were living in Four Freedoms Plaza, Zemo kept us on a short leash, didn’t want us to risk too much exposure.”

“That must have been difficult for you.”

“Tell me about it—being in one of the most famous cities in the world, not being able to explore it?”

“Despite this short leash, you stayed with the Thunderbolts for some time,” said the Vision.

“It wasn’t all bad. When Hawkeye came around, things got much better. And we sort of became like a family,” said Melissa. “Except for Moonstone, that is.”

“And when Zemo returned?”

Melissa sighed. “That’s when things got difficult again. I believed Zemo had changed, I still do. We had good motivations for what we did. But the methods…”

“The ends don’t justify the means,” said the Vision.

“Right. And then Abe…” Melissa’s voice cracked slightly at the mention of MACH-IV’s real name. She closed her eyes and the Vision gently laid a hand on her shoulder.

“You don’t have to talk about it, I understand.”

“Thanks,” she said. “It’s just been tough. And—”

Screams came from behind them and Melissa and the Vision spun around. The other people on the observation deck began to scatter when they saw the leather-clad figure brandishing bladed throwing weapons in his hands. A gust of wind signaled the arrival of the Blur and then another figure clad in a cap and with glowing eyes crashed down. A woman dressed from head to toe in a skintight blue costume hovered above them surrounded by colorful light.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re the Squadron Sinister,” said Hyperion. “We’re here to kill you.”

The Vision discarded his false image, his green and yellow costume taking the place of the Victor Shade alias. He instantly sent out a summons using his internal computer to the rest of the Avengers. Even though his synthetic body had only recently been repaired, he wasted no effort in unleashing a solar energy burst from the gem on his forehead, a blast which Hyperion simply shrugged off.

But it did get his attention and the caped man smiled at the Avenger. “Looks like we’ve got company. Only one Avenger, though? Too bad, was hoping there’d be more sport than this.”

A sonic blast knocked Doctor Spectrum from the air and Songbird, still clad in her street clothes, hovered on sonic wings. “Make that two Avengers!”

“She wasn’t in the files,” said Nighthawk.

“Must be a new addition,” said Doctor Spectrum, getting back to her feet. “No matter. We’ll take care of them easily.”

Dark clouds filled the sky and a roar of thunder accompanied a torrential rain and flashes of lightning. The winds picked up and an African woman rode the air currents from the clouds. Her long, white hair and black and gold cape billowed in the winds and her eyes were fogged.

“Perhaps three would be more apt,” said Storm.