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Godwheel

Part II

By Ed Ainsworth (with apologies to Dino Pollard)

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“When I signed up to be your servant, Stephen, I assumed I would be assisting you in your learnings, teachings, and practices of the Sorcerer Supreme of our Dimension,” Wong said, quietly mopping orange vomit from the floor.

“I know,” Stephen said, two cups of steaming tea floating next to his head. “My friend, I…”

“I did not expect that my duties would be inclusive of laundering tights and mopping up extra-dimensional vomit,” Wong paused to lock eyes with Stephen. His friend offered a sheepish smile and, with a flourish and sleight of hand, produced a fist full of biscuits.

“Custard Crème?”

Wong sighed heavily and closed his eyes.

“I am easily tempted and manipulated, Stephen, but I do feel that perhaps just a handful of biscuits and a cup of tea, which I brewed, is not likely to turn my head in this context. Stephen, it has gone through the floorboards.”

“I am sorry, old friend,” Stephen said, as the teas floated to the nearest surface. Stephen sat down heavily in the chair next to Robert Reynolds, who lay inert on the bed. Around the prone man, fae and smaller creatures flitted and buzzed, landing occasionally on his face or chest.

“The others have left,” Stephen said in a smaller voice. “Kyle, returned to his life once more. Val, I believe she has returned to Asgard to aid in some battle or another. Devil Slayer? Who knows what he does when he is not here. I find him uniquely…”

“Unnerving?” Wong offered.

“Disturbing,” Stephen said.

Wong offered a curt nod.

“And Tania?” Wong asked. “I like her.”

Stephen raised an eyebrow, with a hint of mischief, which Wong quickly shut down with a wave of his hand.

“Also gone. She wanted to investigate another avenue for Robert, but offered no insight into what that was. Now, we wait for the Sleepwalker to arrive.”

Silence extended between them, while Wong leaned on the mop.

“They’re drawn to him,” Wong said quietly, “The extra dimensional entities that live here. I think they’re feeding.”

Strange looked up from his brooding, an eyebrow quirked.

“Feeding?”

Wong nodded slowly.

“I have watched. Fae, mostly, landing on his face and basking, like lizards in the sun – they appear to be drawing something from him. What? I couldn’t tell you.”

Strange sighed and floated off the chair. Wong shifted past him, picked up his tea, and sat down heavily.

“We know that, perhaps, Roberts powers come from a source we don’t understand. It’s not magic or biological. Really that leaves cosmic sources, but I think it stretches beyond that,” Stephen said, the third eye opening at his throat, shining its light over the prone form of the man.

“Before, I looked only for what I expected, but now…I am searching for the absence…I…”

Stephen rocked backwards, the eye slamming shut, sweat immediately blossoming on his brow. He dropped to his feet, almost losing his balance. Wong was up in an instant, hands against his friend’s shoulders.

“Stephen?”

“I…” he said, composing himself, “I looked into Robert and saw a single candle, burning in the centre of his soul, a candle that whispered in an invisible wind under a star-filled sky. I saw faces…huge cosmic visages looking down at me, decorated in thick, purple tendrils.”

Stephen paused, closing his eyes tightly and rubbing his furrowed brow.

“They looked at me, Wong; they looked at me and saw through me. I’ve never…”

“Lindy?” Robert Reynolds murmured. Both Stephen and Wong started.

The floorboards began to bubble, the gaps between them filling.

“Lindy, are you there?” Robert sat up, looking blankly at Wong and Stephen. Vomit dribbled from the corner of his mouth, the chunks in the liquid dancing. Stephen narrowed his eyes.

The floors began to come alive, tiny tendrils reaching up from the boards, the gaps, and the mop itself. Wong dropped it and retreated to the corner of the room. The tendrils, inching their way across the floor, climbed the gap of the bed, covering Robert’s body and joining together. They inched slowly across and into his chest, creating a turning circle, while he stared, open mouthed and blank.

“What is…”

A burst of power knocked Stephen and Wong backwards, a force wave that shattered the windows and threw the extradimensional entities outwards. Stephen, recovering quickly, threw up a concave, glowing shield.

“Shield of the Seraphim! Wong, you need to leave,” Stephen said, the shield immediately beginning to buckle.

“Yes, I rather fear I might,” Wong said, turning to face his friend once more, before leaping through a broken window.

“Robert,” Stephen said quietly, “What is this?”

“Lindy?” he said again. Another burst of power blew through the room, this time buckling Stephen’s shield around him. The floorboards shattered, dropping the furniture through into the rooms below. “It’s…like…a…”

A tentacle slowly expanded through the circle in the centre of the Sentry’s chest; it burned with light that singed the edges of Stephen’s gloves, while he covered his eyes. Floating a few centimetres above its tip was a burning crimson flame that writhed with its own life.

“Burning…Million…Suns…,” Robert continued, “Stretching…forever…”

[BEHOLD.]

The Tentacle throbbed with energy, as its purpose penetrated Stephen’s mindscape, knocking his astral form momentarily from its body.

[BEHOLD! THE WHEEL OF GOD.]

Dripping with energy, the crimson flame sputtered, tentacles growing and writhing from the back of Robert’s body. He convulsed once, as flesh split and rendered around him. Orange flesh, unpeeling itself from a grey shell that clattered to the ground. Once hatched, Robert hung limp in the room, suspended on seven tentacles.

[BEHOLD. VOID.]

The third burst of energy was enough to denature Strange’s shield entirely, slamming him into the wall and pinning him in place. The cloak spun around him, protected him from the worst of the energy, and drilled through the wall to pull him out into the air.

“Strange!”

A voice like the crumpling of a thousand cobwebs penetrated Strange’s brain first, his ears second. Twisting around him like an elongated wraith, the Sleepwalker appeared, holding a glowing star-shaped stone up. It blocked the worst of the energy emitted from the Sentry but still forced Sleepwalker to cover his eyes.

“How have you allowed this?” The Walker said.

“I wasn’t given an enormous amount of opportunity to form a suitable rebuttal, Walker,” Strange said, irritation creeping into the corners of his voice. “Feel free to cast your vote against this.”

“I shall,” Walker said. The glowing stone burst with power, a flash of a colour Strange couldn’t place, that forced the Orange Tentacled Monstrosity to stumble backwards.

“It is life, unfettered by a fear of Death,” Walker garbled, his throat a thousand rustling leaves. “It is cancer. Cancer of Reality.”

“Have you seen this before?” Strange asked, the cloak now fully holding Strange in the air. His limbs felt heavy and unwieldly.

“Once,” Sleepwalker said. “These are entities that exist beyond…mindscapes and magic and physics and all that makes our worlds turn. These Eldritch Entities from Forever, limited only by their bloated shapes outside of reality.”

The stone in the Walker’s hand glowed again, a burst of crimson energy this time, knocking back a trailing tentacle that attempted to wrap around the duo.

“We must leave. Where are the other Defenders?”

“We are it,” Strange said.

“We must have more.”

The Walker turned to look at Strange with its honeycomb eyes.

“This is an incursion of an entity that can break space. We need more than crippled hands and garbled magic.”

[BEHOLD. THE CANDLE THAT WAS ONCE A SUN.]

Light burst outwards, knocking both the Sleepwalker and Strange down to the ground. Strange, skidding in place, put his hands to the floor, fangs forming around his knuckles.

“Fangs of Farrallah,” he said, the concrete scraped up by his hold. The Walker simply hit the surface of the street and bounced once, the stone from his hand bouncing from his grip.

[WE ARE THE GODS OF THE PALE STORM. ONE HAND FOR LIGHT, ONE HAND FOR THE STORM. TWO FOR LIGHTNING AND TWO FOR THE THUNDER. THREE FOR BIRTH AND ONE FOR UNLIFE.]

Thunder rippled through the sky in a burst of unnatural power. The form of the Sentry, puppeted by the tendrils from beyond, looked up. Slowly, a carapace began to form, of hardened space, one that resembled a broken, shattered crab.

Within the centre of the shell, where the Sentry’s chest and orange tentacled circle had sat, an opening bled through. A gate into the starscape of beyond, and within its centre, a tiny black hole that exposed another starscape, somehow with a darker hue of black, onwards and onwards, growing smaller and smaller.

The thunder rolled again, this time accompanied by a burst of coloured light. Strange looked up, to see a puffin, gliding through the eddies in the sky and scooping the stone from the ground, to drop into the Walker’s grip.

“Ho! Defenders! Well met!”

An enormous hulking form dropped from what appeared to be a fractured rainbow. He landed heavily on the ground, a hammer slung from his waist.

“And you are?” Strange asked, his cloak billowing around him, tendrils coiling and pushing him from the ground.

“I?” the man responded, “I am Magni Thorson. Son of Thor, the King of, what little remains of, Asgard. God of Strength, Pillars, and the Wisdom of Youth!”

Strange cocked his head to one side.

“I was unaware that Thor had a child or that Youth held any Wisdom…”

“Aye!” Magni said, “As was he, but the universe ebbs and flows in ways that both confuse and control us. All I know that is that I am the Rock in the River of Time, and while I may be moved and jostled, I cannot be dislodged.”

Strange narrowed his brows.

“Rather chatty for an Asgardian, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Magni said, grinning, “’Twas something my mother commented on many a time. God of Strength but unaware of the strength of solitude.”

“Quite,” Strange said, “And what brings you to our gathering?”

“Oh,” Magni said, offering a smile and a shrug, “The smiting, of course.”

(See Thor 13 for Magni’s True Journey.)

He turned on the ball of his foot and hurled the hammer, not unlike Mjnolir, towards the rampaging Sentry. The tentacles all grew taut for a moment, before dropping limp at the exact same time. The hammer caught him under the chin, in the centre of the throat, knocking him into the ground and forcing him to gag.

Magni followed it up with a huge leap, landing on Sentry’s chest and smashing his fist into the diaphragm of the creature, forcing the air out of its chest.

“Oh,” Strange said, looking back to Sleepwalker, “He fights with a more clear direction and application of force than his father ever did. Astonishing.”

“Strange,” Sleepwalker hung in the air behind him, stone glowing in his hand, “We cannot face the Sentry the three of us.”

“No,” Strange said, “We cannot.”

He held his hand aloft, a burst of mystical energy spiralling off and splitting into multiple directions, as he clasped the Eye of Agamotto at his throat.

“I have sought aid from those closest to us and called upon my fellow Doctors: Druid, Voodoo, and Twoyoungmen.”

The Sleepwalker hung in the air, staring down at Strange.

“You should have ended Reynolds when you had the chance. Do you understand what you have done?”

“Saved a life? Prevented the death of a man who would otherwise be consumed by his own despair? Do not seek to tell me my business, Walker.” Strange turned to look up at the floating figure.

“I police the Dreamscape, where reality is weakest and most vulnerable. I have fought Nightmare, as much as you have. I have twisted reality to fit into a box, and you have allowed a hole to be punched through it by some mentally delinquent human. Do you understand the delicate balance you have disrupted?” The Walker thrust his finger at Strange.

“Police, you may be, Law Keeper,” Strange said, his cloak lifting him into the air to stare into the strange, red honeycomb eyes. “But I am Sorcerer Supreme of this dimension. Not just of Earth but the entirety of this Universe. You have manipulated reality to your whim? I have shaped it, birthed it, killed it, and saved it more times than you have been dreamt into existence. You would do well to remember that while my countenance of that of a doctor, to do no harm, and to save those who would need it–”

Strange paused, leaning in close to the Walker, who, unerring in his stare, floated back slightly.

“–I do that by wielding knives.”

Strange turned away, his fists shaking at his side.

“Help with come, shortly. Once the Triage arrives, we will assess the situation further: Druid will apply some anaesthetic, and Twonyoungmen will review any surgical requirements. You will provide egress into the mindscape of Reynolds, so that we, along with Voodoo, can try and do something to help him before we have to consider more permanent options.”

“He should die now, Strange,” Sleepwalker said. “The danger is real, present, and persistent.”

Strange didn’t offer even a glance over his shoulder.

“Then come, let us see if we can put a dent into this Sentry, this God of the Pale Storm.”

Sleepwalker paused and rallied himself, holding the glowing stone in his fist, tightly.

“Let’s.”

---

Bursting from the fissure in the ground, the Sentry’s fist collided with Magni’s nose, taking him off his feet and into the dirt. The God of Strength shook his head.

Rising higher into the air, the orange light around the Sentry intensified, bursting out from the centre of his chest. The hole, where once an Eldritch beast pulled itself, now became a starscape black hole, edged with light. The stars swirled within it before becoming a lens for a smaller ball, encircled with golden light, twisting downwards, seemingly into infinity. The light downshifted in the spectrum until an almost infinitesimally small dot was surrounded by harsh, red light.

“By my grandfather…,” Magni said, pulling himself to his feet. He crackled his knuckles on his chest and lurched forwards, grabbing the Sentry’s ankles. A single yank pulled the super being into the ground in front of them, with Magni flipping over his apex, to slam his heels into the Sentry.

The colours shifted away from the Sentry’s body, as tentacles began to resolve themselves in a map of a sky not seen in this universe. His arm shot up, punching Magni in the calf, spinning the younger backwards.

“I am the God of the Pale Storm. I hold the Candle of Infinity. You cannot beat me with a fist.”

“No? Then how about something not from the physical realm?” Strange dove down through the sky, his fore fingers and thumbs touching. A burst of power removed the Sentry’s hair from his face and thrust him backwards, leaving him grey and bald.

The Sleepwalkers eye beams hit the Sentry next, twisting and warping the edges of his physical form. His arms swirling around himself, as though they contained no bones. Sentry stared at his arm a moment, before it snapped back to reality.

He burst forward in a cloud of dust, hurtling towards the Sleepwalker, grabbing him by his throat. The Walker gurgled in shock, unable to phase through, before he was driven into the ground.

Strange followed with an ethereal attack, ghostly fangs closing around Sentry’s face. He simply grimaced. The fangs snapped.

“Imposs…” Strange said, Sentry’s elbow hitting him in the chest and sending him flying backwards. Magni, leaping over Strange’s prone body, delivered a double fisted haymaker to the top of the Sentry’s head, sending him bouncing off the floor, mere metres from Sleepwalker’s impact site.

Sentry landed heavily, his feet smashing through the concrete. He stood for a moment, surveying his works:  Strange landing on his side, struggling to get to his feet; Sleepwalker laying on his front, sparks of angry, but ineffective, energy blistering from his eyes; and Magni laying in a pile of rubble.

[BEHOLD. THE WORKS OF THE…]

A vibrating blur hit the Sentry in the centre mass, where the starscape tunnel distended back through reality. Sentry stumbled, clearly hurt. The blur bounced off the side of the Sanctum and hit the Sentry again in the face, taking him off his feet.

“Hold!” A construct of blue glowing energy hit the Sentry around the neck, throttling him in place, as Magni landed by his side, delivering a dropped elbow with the remainder of his momentum.

“My thanks…”

“Doctor Spectrum,” the strange glowing figure said, hanging in the air. His body gave off a kaleidoscope of sparks, his costume splitting into different blocks of colours at the diamond that hung in his midsection, his head masked in blue. “I heard Strange’s call.”

“Same!” The bouncing blur landed in a crouch a few feet from Magni and the pinned Sentry. Grinning ear to ear, Speedball made a mocking sleeve rolling action.

“We may need to wait on that front,” three floating forms landed near Strange. Doctor Druid, a bald man dressed in a green tweed, three-piece suit, helped the Sorcerer to his feet, while the stoic form of Michael Twoyoungmen, the Shaman of Alpha Flight, pulled a fistful of dust from the medicine bag at his side, thrusting it in the direction of Sentry’s eyes.

Michael paused, adjusting his white coat, against his own dark, burnt orange suit.

“We are here to triage this situation,” Doctor Voodoo said, his feet touching the ground, the glowing face paint of the skull growing brighter. He adjusted his own white suit, as he causally approached the Sentry.

“Gentlemen, It appears that the issue here, aside from the raw unknown power, is mental rather than physical,” Michael said, the dust clearing from the Sentry’s eyes. Colour was draining quickly, leaving the Sentry grey, his complexion darkening.

[THE PALE STORM NEVER CEASES. YOU CANNOT HOLD ME.]

Sentry lurched upwards, severing the connection between Spectrum and his throat. Wiping the remainder of the dust from his eyes, his form began to shift before them, the remaining colour dripping on the floor.

His body grew several stories larger, thickening. Dripping with black ichor that seeped and dribbled from the edges of the circle in his chest. Thick ridges and skin grew over his, leaving him transformed as a two-story monster, teeth growing without regard for position or length, plates of hardened chitinous skin sliding together, as it moved.

[I AM VOID.]

Voodoo looked up at the creature and back to his fellow Doctors.

“Shall we?” he said, thumbing over his shoulder. Druid grinned a malicious and nasty smile.

“Please.”

The four Doctors burst forwards.

Shaman first, reaching into his medicine bag and pulling out a tiny model, seemingly of a Totem Pole. The model grew and grew, until it towered over the Void. It split apart, into several aggressive looking sections, each grabbing the Void and pulling it towards the ground.

Strange next, tendrils of energy bursting from the ground to pull the Void closer, wrapping around, and under, the skin plates. A scream rung out that deafened him, leaving only a high pitched whine in its place, the Void bringing its power to bear against its bonds.

Druid, thrusting his hands into the ground, filled the tendrils with something glowing and noxious looking. The Void gurgled and raged against the liquid, seeping and sticking to its body, slowly working its way towards its mouth

Finally, Doctor Voodoo, holding a glowing staff, thrust it into the gaping maw of the Void, leaving an opening.

“Now!”

Voodoo, Strange, Druid, and Shaman thrust their arms forwards, each creating part of a multi-part spell, which completed within the throat of the Void.

“The Dreamscape,” Voodoo yelled, “Sleepwalker. A door – we need a door to the Dreamscape!”

Pushing itself up using its thin, almost comically bending arms, the Sleepwalker screamed in anguish.

“I am a Law Enforcer of the Dreamscape, sorcerer. You cannot command me to allow such a monster to head into it!”

Strange snapped his head to stare at the Sleepwalker.

“I am SORCERER SUPREME, Sleepwalker. Whether you are the sheriff of a tiny town or a mega-city in matters of magic and dimensional security, I am the only authority that matters. Do as Jericho says!”

The Walker, visibly angry, thrust the stone in his hands forwards, opening an aperture within the Void’s throat. Strange and Voodoo both jumped towards the opening, disappearing into the Dreamscape. Moments later, preceded by a scream of pure anger and hatred, the Sleepwalker followed.

“I can’t see that ending well,” Shaman said, sweat beading on his brow.

“No,” Druid said, “But Strange has a way of making people feel smaller than they are.”

Shaman offered Druid a knowing look.

---

Inside the Dreamscape

“Robert,” Jericho said quietly, “Robert, can you hear me?”

The inert form of Robert Reynolds looked at Jericho with hollow eyes, leaking an orange ichor.

“I know you,” he said, quietly, “Brother Voodoo.”

Jericho nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I go by Doctor now. Do you know why we’re here?”

Robert nodded and looked up at the huge cosmic background behind him. The orange liquid hung in the air as he turned to look, creating esoteric shapes in their movement. Strange paused, his fingers reaching out to touch one.

The shape of reality appeared to bend around Robert, twisting around itself into an infinitesimally small bow.

“I used to be an astrophysicist, you know?”

The Sleepwalker floated around the trio, Insectoid eyes staring, watching. His gaze settling, more often than not, on Strange.

“Do you know where you are, Robert?” Voodoo asked.

Robert stared off into the distance, reality swirling, as he stared at the gaping maw of a cosmic entity. A man, seemingly, screaming. He seemed strangely familiar.

“Are you…?”

“What is it that you see, Robert?”

Strange and Voodoo slowly moved, either side of Robert. Robert stood on the very edge of a cliff, the drop seemingly stretching forever, as something huge, ominous, and disconcerting moved below. Strange sat down first, allowing his legs to dangle over the very edge of forever. The view was spectacular. On the horizon sat the dying moments of the Seventh Eternity, encased in a black hole that froze it forever. It held all the universes within itself, looking back to the beginning of forever, like a lens focusing the last moments of every universe.

“I think I’ve figured out what the Sentry means,” he said quietly.

“And what does it mean?” Voodoo asked, pulling a leg up to allow his arm to rest on his knee.

“Well,” Robert said, gesturing towards the black hole suspended on the horizon, “Broadly, a black hole is a dent in space time. It sucks things into it. Because Gravity warps space time and it’s so powerful, it basically warps everything around into a sphere. If you went inside a black hole, you could see the back of your own head.”

Strange smirked.

“I shall take that under advisement not to do that then,” he said. Robert said nothing, staring into the centre of it.

“I think the Sentry is a manifestation of the light that escapes from them. Every black hole slowly starves itself, a photon swallowed and a photon lost, giving its visible presence. I think the Pale Storm is the…the black hole itself, calling out. The Void. I think the Sun King is the Sentry, and you can’t have…either one without the other.”

Voodoo nodded slowly.

“Ying and yang they call it in Eastern Philosophy, although it’s a bit more involved than that. We view it in terms of light and darkness in the west, with darkness being evil and light as good, but…It’s not always the case or so black and white. There is a balance to all things.”

“Right,” Robert said, “And the balance here is that the Void has taken over my presence, my timeline…my purpose. But if I am, or was, the Sentry…”

He stopped and stared out into space.

“I keep thinking of that black hole as a wheel. Something that’s forever turning, because it is. Inside it, light accelerates forever, and because gravity is so strong and it accelerates beyond lightspeed, time stops. It goes forever, but it turns, because it’s spherical.”

“A wheel that never stops,” Strange said. He touched the Eye of Agamotto that sat at his throat.

“The Sentry is…I guess…the one who watches the Void? But if I try to stop the Void, then the bad things happen. Things like we’ve just seen. I start….saying things that make no sense. About pale storms and black lights and candles.”

Strange put his hand on Robert’s shoulder.

“I am no stranger to portents, Robert. I am no stranger to oddities or actions that, seemingly, stem from nowhere.”

A tower manifested itself. A steep, vertical rectangle and, within it, a singular orb, almost an eye, looking out across reality. Its focus on the black hole before them.

“I do not approve of this,” Sleepwalker said.

“I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to give these powers up,” Robert said, quietly, looking at Voodoo this time. “I don’t want this anymore.”

Jericho sighed and closed his eyes.

“That isn’t always as easy as it sounds, my friend.”

“I guess it was, is…easier to accept that I was just a druggie than I was…something else entirely, right? Some manifestation of the last light of seven other universes. It’s easier to accept that I am a black hole and the Void is the back of my own head?”

Voodoo said nothing. The silence dragged on for some time, until Sleepwalker descended from the heavens to float behind them.

“Whatever you choose to do, Robert Reynolds, current and potentially former Sentry, I would suggest that accelerate your decision making. The Void will be dealt with, one way or another, but we must now decide – within you – what you want to do with you.”

Robert stared at his feet and then back to the huge tower that had manifested.

“I think I know what to do, to remove the Void. To help me. To make the Sentry a force for good. Follow me,” he said, breaking into a run towards the watchtower.

“Thank God he found some agency,” Strange said, his cloak pulling him into the air to follow the scientist.

“You’re far too critical, Stephen,” Voodoo said, taking flight behind him.

“No, I am a pragmatist, Jericho. You seem to believe that people will come to their own conclusions; sometimes, they need a push.”

Sleepwalker, matching pace with Strange, stared into his eyes.

“You push too much and give so little,” he said, accelerating to pass Strange.

“Long-time fan?” Jericho asked, “I suppose you never lose your way with patients, do you?”

Strange grumbled under his breath.

---

Earth

“HA! Have hold!” Magni held on arm of the rampaging Void behind his back, as the reverberating entity careened through the city – exploding through a building, tearing away most of Magni’s clothes save for a thin strip protected by his stomach and midriff.

The Void screamed, a sound that bounced back from eternity and into the ears of those around them. A scream of space and time crashing into a barrier it had never experienced before. A Pale Storm that filled their ears with sound.

It zeroed in on the hunched over form of Doctor Spectrum, who refused to move. Moments before their connection, the figure thrust a fist upwards, into the Void’s waiting chin. A barrier of shifting colours formed around the fist. The resultant explosion of compressed air blew out what little windows remained, shattered the ear drums of Magni, and threw him off the back of the Void, whose trajectory took a sharp 90-degree detour straight upwards.

Spectrum shot after the Void at a speed that would make even Quicksilver balk. A platform underneath him catapulted Speedball, faster than Spectrum had ascended. Robbie Baldwin shot upwards, his knee hitting the Void in the centre of the back.

The Void hit the ground hard enough to dent it, Speedball bouncing between two buildings seven or eight times before hurtling back towards the Void. The monster, eyes snapping open, roared and batted Speedball with the back of its hand, sending him careening across the city.

Spectrum burst forward, a cascade of power pushing the Void backwards. The creature covered its eyes with a forearm. Magni, ducking under the barrage, thrust the full force of his fist into the Void’s genitalia.

The creature stumbled, for a moment, then clutched its head.

“Now, damnit!” Spectrum yelled, the force of his blast pushing further back. Shaman, appearing from seemingly nowhere, added the force of his spells to Spectrum.

“Bolts of Balthakk!” Shaman yelled, his hands disappearing under the glow.

“Chains of Krakken!” Druid screamed, the fringes of his suit ragged from the battle. Crimson chains burst from the buildings, wrapping around the Void, who screamed again. The chains melted away, the power sloughing off the monster’s warped, broken form. Within its chest, something grew brighter.

---

Dreamscape

“Robert,” Sleepwalker said, as the scientist stood outside the tower.

“It’s not a tower,” Robert said, opening the door. “It’s not a tower!”

He charged in, with Sleepwalker flying beside him.

“You are damaging the Dreamscape and your own mental plane, Robert. Please. This is not right,” Sleepwalker looked over his shoulder, as the screaming faces of six previous eternities mouthed pleas, anger, and beyond into infinity. Sleepwalker looked away.

“You are breaking reality,” he said.

Robert continued to ascend the stairs, towards the top of the tower that wasn’t a tower.

“The Sentry is damaging reality. The Void is damaging reality. I am going to stop them, by stopping me.”

“By the powers that enforce me and the Dreamscape. By the declaration of the Mnemonic Planes, I charge you with…”

“Shut up, whatever the hell you are,” Robert said, reaching the top of the stairs, sweating, and out of breath, “I will not be arrested by a fly with a badge.”

He looked at Sleepwalker, whose eyes began to glow.

“No, this isn’t a tower. This is a lighthouse,” Robert, suddenly animated, pulled forward towards the inert light and the huge windows.

“That out there? I described them as black holes, but they’re not. They’re wormholes, portals to previous iterations of the universe. Six times over. They’re not black holes and rips in the fabric of space time…”

“They’re a lens,” Sleepwalker said, suddenly attentive to Robert. “I understand. I will assist.”

The walker held his glowing stone up, shaping the light in the centre of the room.

“This will be our focus, to channel the power of the Sentry and the Void through the lens. I believe I understand that the Sentry is the light from eternities past and Void is the last light dying. It is…forever.”

“A Million Exploding Suns,” Robert said.

“We focus the lens on you, and we rid the world of the Sentry, the Void, and your powers. Are you certain? It may…”

“I don’t care,” Robert said, “My life, my wife, my world was a lie. I don’t care. I don’t care. DO IT.”

“Stop!” Voodoo shouted, phasing through the wall with Strange. “STOP!”

“I cannot,” Walker said, a burst of power from his stone transforming the focus of the lighthouse bulb onto Robert. A secondary burst hurled Strange and Voodoo against the wall.

“You may be Sorcerer Supreme, Stephen, but this is MY realm. We build, we destroy, and we channel on MY say so. Supreme or not, I AM the law in this realm.”

“Watch yourself, Walker,” Strange said, peeling his arms from the wall.

“Now, Robert. Goodbye.”

The light, reflected from mega-eternities, eternities to the power of six, focused on Robert Reynolds. He felt nothing at first, and then, he began to bubble. The light shifted, as all lighthouses do, bathing him in darkness. He felt something begin to loosen itself.

“Stop,” Voodoo said, “Please. He’ll die.”

“So be it,” Walker said, holding his gem up, pinning Strange and Voodoo. “So be it.”

Another twist of light threw Robert to his knees, the darkness oppressive, the light burning. Shifting, as the focus spun faster and faster.

“I can’t…,” Robert said, gripping the side of his head. The darkness, whipping itself into a frenzy, pushed itself upwards in a spire, held together by threads and strands of light. “It’s fighting me…It won’t leave…”

The lighthouse twisted and shifted. A perfect, straight column transforming itself, slowly in a spiral, separating into a threaded, twisted helix.

“No!” Robert threw himself on the focus, the effort knocking the light burst upwards into forever for a moment, before it exploded, throwing Robert clear across the room and decelerating the spinning of the bulb, until it came to a stop.

The lens of eternity before them continued to shine brightly.

“He looks at peace,” Walker said, lowering his gem.

“Being dead will have that effect,” Strange said, dropping from the wall and rushing to him.

“Thank god. He’s alive,” Strange said, turning to face the Walker. “Your recklessness…”

“Have hold,” Walker said, holding his hand up to Strange. “I care not for your arrogance any longer. My work is done. Find your own way home.”

Dropping through the floor, Strange and Sleepwalker maintained their angered gaze until he disappeared from view.

“Jericho,” Strange said.

“Already working it, Strange,” Voodoo said, pulling a door from reality. “But we have much to discuss about this place.”

Strange nodded, lifting Reynolds up and stepping through the door back to the wreckage of Bleeker Street. Magni Thorson stood naked, covered in his own blood. Doctor Spectrum hung in the air, talking to Shaman, who floated, cross-legged, beside him.

Helping Speedball to his feet was Doctor Druid, his tweed suit ruined from the battle. The younger man brushed himself off and said something that made Druid’s mustache twitch.

“The Void?” Strange asked. Magni shook his head.

“I delivered the final blow to the temple, Sorcerer, and it vanished from existence. Once again, the fighting prowess of the God of Strength saves the day!”

Magni flexed a bicep. Both Druid and Shaman rolled their eyes, while Speedball gave a sarcastic thumbs up.

“So what now?” Speedball asked.

“Now? Now I am taking Robert to an old friend of mine, a place he can recuperate and, perhaps, even learn more about his new existence,” Jericho said.

“As for the rest of you, you’re welcome to return to the Sanctum, and Wong will prepare tea and sandwiches,” Strange gestured towards his wrecked household.

“Yeah? I could eat,” Speedball said.

“Please,” Strange said, gesturing towards his broken household. “But, uh, ignore the mess. We haven’t have a chance to tidy yet.”

“You think that’s bad?” Speedball said, “You should see my place. My underwear is STILL bouncing off the walls.”

Druid’s mustache twitched again, as he guided the young man towards the building.

“What an odious young man you are.”

“Yeah, well,” Speedball said, looking over his shoulder, “Things don’t work out right when I am serious.”

(See Speedball’s storyline in Champions for further details.)

“Come, Jericho. It’s time for a visit to Adam Brashear.”