Siberia
The Forbidden Zone

Once, her name was Dr. Tania Belinsky. She became one of the many Russian heroes who adopted the name of the Red Guardian in order to defend her people. A brilliant neurosurgeon, she spent some time in America as a member of the loose conglomeration known as the Defenders. It was there she had finally found a place to belong to, until the Russian government asked her back, so she could aid this man in his research.

Sergei Krylov. A brilliant physicist whose experiments in radiation would have revolutionized the world. But his experiments transformed both him and Tania into radioactive beings who must live isolated from the rest of humanity for fear of destroying them with radiation poisoning. They became the Presence and Starlight.

The Forbidden Zone in Sibera was the one place they could live without worry of contaminating others. It led to a lonely existence, one which has separated Krylov from his children—the Russian heroes known as Vanguard and Darkstar. And has separated Tania from her own beloved family and friends.

She wondered why she continued to stay by the side of the Presence. In the past, she had been strong and independent. But after the transformation, she found herself a wreck if away from the Presence for any length of time.

She closed her eyes as he moved inside her. His body generated even more radioactivity, such that even she could feel the heat. As usual, she remained unresponsive. She knew he felt love for her in his own, bizarre way. She knew how grateful he had been to her for her companionship over these past few years. But for him, she felt no emotion, no desire, nothing other than a need to be with him. She knew it wasn’t love. No, it was something else.

She needed him in the way a human needed food.

A mushroom cloud exploded in the middle of the Forbidden Zone, engulfing the two of them in it. It slowly dissipated and the Presence moved away from her. Tania sat up and saw he had his back turned.

“Sergei…”

“Yes?”

“Something bothers you,” she said.

The Presence looked down. “I have work to do.”

Tania nodded. “I understand.”

“…I love you, Tania.”

She said nothing in response and the Presence looked at her. “Tania?”

“I heard you, Sergei,” she said. “And…I know.”

“You know,” he said. “Of course you know.”

The Presence left her alone on the bed and Tania leaned over, picking up the book she had been reading. He knew something was off with their relationship. Knew she didn’t share the feelings he had for her. And all she could do now was wonder what would come next.

STARLIGHT RUN

Part I

By Dino Pollard

The Sanctum Sanctorum

Doctor Leonard Samson tapped his pen against his chin as he kept his green eyes focused on the tall, muscled man who stood with his back to the psychiatrist. The man dressed in gold with a blue cape behind him, hovered a few feet off the ground, his body surrounded by a golden aura.

“Bob—”

“Please Len, it’s Sentry while I’m in costume. You wouldn’t want to compromise my secret identity, would you?”

Leonard sighed. “Bob, you’re in Doctor Strange’s home. Everyone here knows who you are.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s the principle,” said the Sentry. He turned, his eyes humming with the same light as his aura. “If we get too comfortable referring to each other by secret identities, we could very well foul up in the field.”

“First off, I don’t even have a secret identity. Second, there’s no real field to be said. We’re not the Avengers.”

“I was an Avenger.”

“No you weren’t.”

“Of course I was,” said the Sentry. “I was one of the founding members. I was the one who brought the team together when I sensed Loki’s treachery. I was the one who thawed Cap out of the ice.”

“Then how come there’s no mention of you in the charter?” asked Leonard. “Were you voted out like the Hulk?”

“Of course I wasn’t. But I was the voice of dissent when the Hulk was voted out. I tried to convince him to stay, but Bruce was in one of his moods. You know how he gets.”

“Intimately,” said Leonard. “So why aren’t you in the charter?”

“I told you, Len. I had to erase all memory of my existence from the minds of everyone on Earth. It was necessary to contain the Void,” said the Sentry.

“And not only were you able to wipe your memory from every mind on the planet, but you were able to purge it from every single record and documentation of your existence?”

“It wasn’t easy, but it was something I had to do.”

“Bob, there is no force in the universe capable of such a feat,” said Leonard. “None I’ve ever heard of, anyway.”

The Sentry grinned. “Exactly. That’s because I did it all.”

“Okay…” said Leonard as he scribbled some words on his pad. “Now that you’re back, does this mean the Void will return as well?”

“I don’t know,” said the Sentry.

“And if knowledge of you is how the Void was able to exist in the first place, how did he escape when no one knew who you were? When still no one knows who you are?”

“I don’t know.”

“I see…” said Leonard, writing down something else. “So what are your plans now?”

“I’m going to stay here with the Defenders. For now, anyway,” said the Sentry. “The world has changed a lot since my self-imposed exile. I want to rediscover it and I think Stephen is the perfect guide for that.”

“Sure,” said Leonard. Then he muttered under his breath, “get the creepy magician to lead around a crazy person…”

Samson exited the room he had been in with the Sentry and made his way to the kitchen. There he found Sleepwalker twisting off the top of a beer bottle. The alien creature with the mind of a young man smiled at the psychiatrist and gestured towards him with the bottle.

“Beer?”

“Right now, I could probably use a bottle of whiskey.” Leonard took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“So how goes it with Bright Eyes in there?” asked Sleepwalker.

“His story has holes large enough to drive a truck through,” said Leonard. “He claims to be so incredibly powerful that he erased all memory of his existence from every single mind on the planet as well as destroyed or altered all records and physical evidence relating to said existence.”

Sleepwalker took a sip from the beer as he listened.

“This delusion of his…it’s incredible,” said Leonard. “I’ve dealt with delusional people before, people who had constructed entire fantasy worlds for themselves. But this is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”

“And that means…?”

“Well, in layman’s terms, he’s a fucking loon,” said Leonard.

Sleepwalker shrugged. “Maybe he’s come to the right place. We’ve got a Lord of Hell, a crippled demon, an amnesiac A-bomb, an arrogant sorcerer and an alien with the mind of a human.”

“Pretty simplistic way of looking at it,” said Leonard. “How do I fit in?”

“You’re a shrink. Seems like the best person to keep watch over the nuthouse, wouldn’t you say?”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” said Leonard.

John Blaze stood over the graves of his family, seated in his wheelchair. His legs were slowly growing back, but they were not yet able to support his weight. Still, he wondered just how they grew back in the first place. Why had Zarathos healed him? Was it because Blaze was a less effective host? Was it just a by-product of their union?

After Rebecca Lockwood had become possessed by the demon, John hoped that would be it for him. That he would be free of this curse. Instead, he found himself damned once more.

“I apologize for the intrusion.”

Blaze lit a cigarette, sensing the figure behind him. “Then get out. You’re the last person I want to see now, Hellstrom.”

Daimon Hellstrom approached Blaze, his leather trench coat buttoned over his bare chest, hands resting in his pockets. “There are things we must discuss, Blaze.”

“The last time I dealt with a Hell Lord, my idyllic life came crashing down around me and everything I loved was turned to ash. So you’ll forgive me if I tell you to take that trident of yours and shove it up your ass.”

“Blaze, there are forces gathering…forces which have only the worst in mind for humanity,” said Daimon. “I didn’t want to tell Stephen about this, because I’m not sure where his allegiances would lie.”

“The hell are you talking about?” asked Blaze.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Huh?”

Daimon reached down to Blaze’s face and plucked the cigarette from his lips. “What the fuck?”

The Prince of Lies ignored the protest as he began smoking the Marlboro. Blaze muttered a curse and pulled another from the pack in his jacket. He lit the fresh cigarette and stared at Daimon through his dark sunglasses.

“What’s this about, Hellstrom? I’m no fan of this cryptic bullshit, I get enough of that from Strange.”

“Sorry. I’ve been in Hell for so long, I’ve become accustomed to a certain manner of speaking,” said Daimon. “Recently, I performed an exorcism on a young girl.”

“And…?”

“When that is combined with the sudden awakening of Rosetti, I have reason to suspect there is something building.”

“Did the demon tell you anything?” asked Blaze.

“It wasn’t a demon,” said Daimon. “It was an angel.”

“What?”

“Now you see why I can’t tell Strange just yet,” said Daimon. “If the forces of Heaven are planning to enslave humanity, we must align ourselves with the forces of Hell.”

The Sanctum Sanctorum

Stephen Strange hovered above the large, Olympic swimming pool in the lotus position. His cape flowed with a mind of its own and the water from the pool spurted up and about, dancing in manners that defied the laws of physics. In the water, he could see the faces of Defenders, past and present. And even…future?

When he spoke with the higher powers, he was told he had to assemble the seven soldiers. There were now seven who called themselves Defenders. He could see similarities in some of them. But of the nine cards, how was he to be sure which ones were the seven? How was he to be sure these were the seven?

“I brought you some tea.”

Doctor Strange didn’t turn to acknowledge his manservant’s presence. “Thank you, Wong. Just leave it there.”

“Have you found any new information?” asked Wong.

Doctor Strange shook his head as the tea cup floated to his waiting hand. “I’m afraid not. I’ve been trying to consult other beings but with no luck. There are…tremors in the mystic threads of reality, however. Threats coming, which only the Defenders may stand against.”

“Let’s just hope they survive each other,” said Wong.

“Indeed,” said Doctor Strange. “And thank you for that timely statement.”

“What do you—”

The wall shattered and the red Hulk entered the pool, his eyes glowing brightly. “STRANGE!”

“That’s what I mean,” said Doctor Strange. “You may go now, Wong. I will deal with the Hulk.”

Wong bowed to Doctor Strange and then to the Hulk. “Good to see you again, sir.”

“Cut the crap, Kato,” said the Hulk. He glared up at Strange. “Alright Strange, only reason I joined this outfit is ’cause I need answers. And you’re the one to give ’em to me!”

Doctor Strange hovered lower to the Hulk’s eye line as the water in the pool settled down to normal, the images fading. The Sorcerer Supreme fixed his gaze on the irradiated behemoth.

“As I told you before, I have no answers for you at the moment. First we must discover what is this threat and who else must be gathered,” said Doctor Strange.

“I’m talkin’ about me. I want to know who I really am.”

“Ah…that.”

“Yeah, that. Might not seem like much to a high and mighty Sorcerer Supreme—”

“It doesn’t.”

“—but it means a hell of a lot to me!”

“One crisis at a time, Hulk,” said Doctor Strange. “I will ascertain your identity once I’m able to.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked the Hulk. “Just do your fancy mumbo-jumbo—say the magic words, wave your hands around and poof. Job’s done.”

“Omnipotence is a little out of my league, Hulk,” said Doctor Strange. “My power comes from my knowledge of the mystic realms. I can’t just do anything I please. I must study the situation, consult higher beings, before I can truly find the means to discover your true identity. Especially because yours is…masked.”

“…masked?”

“That’s right,” said Doctor Strange. “There is some mystical cloak hiding your true self. Your current form was not born of science alone, I can tell you that much. Magic has been used in your creation as well.”

Siberia
The Forbidden Zone

“Sergei…?”

Starlight entered Sergei’s private quarters, where he would come when he wished to be alone. She expected to find him seated in his chair, pouring over his research material. But instead, all she found were flames, fueled by the books and the shelves that once held them.

“What is this?” she asked. “Sergei? Where are you?”

Once more, she began to feel the pull. That need for him that she felt whenever they were apart. She needed to be in his presence. Starlight hovered into the air, heading towards the giant hole in the ceiling and once she reached, she looked back down and saw her clue.

The flames, they were in a specific pattern. Arranged in such a way that they spelled out a phrase. A sentence that sent a shiver through the radioactive body of Tania Belinsky.

I WILL MAKE YOU LOVE ME