The Baxter Building
Madison Avenue at 42nd Street
Manhattan, New York
Outside…

“Ahhhh…”

They say that your life passes before your eyes in those last moments before death. The good and the bad, all the little things that made up who and what you were flashing in your mind’s eye just before life finally escapes and your soul leaves for better, hopefully greener pastures.

If that was truly the case, then Phillip Masters must have led a short and uneventful life indeed. He must have blinked, because all poor Phillip could see was the black asphalt of Madison Avenue that was racing up at incredible speeds to smack him squarely about the face and body.

But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe the fact that he was not seeing his pitiable and twisted life swirling past meant that he was not going to die after all. Maybe there was hope…

Phillip Masters screamed again, hard as it was. The air was racing past with such velocity that it was hard to gather breath. Couple that with the fact that he was an old man and he had smoked for most of his life, well, breathing was not so easy to do in the first place. Still, he drew in enough ragged air to scream, so his last efforts were not wasted.

He could feel his stomach churning as he tumbled in free fall. He had never been a flyer, and the mere thought of skydiving had quite often sent him to swooning. Still, the view was nice. He had just lost sight of Central Park some twenty blocks uptown as he had fallen below the rooftops of the buildings that surrounded the Baxter Building. He could still see Times Square not so far away, with its dazzling neon lights and hustle and bustle of tourists. They did look like ants, the people. And spinning the other way he could see the UN Building down on the East River at the end of 42nd Street, Queens beyond that. If he could hold steady and strain he could probably spot his apartment building.

Masters screamed again—or continued screaming, not that it mattered—as his body spiraled about. He could see activity now directly beneath him; people and vehicles moving about almost frantically. They were inflating something beneath him, like a big, billowing sheet. He could see firemen and others, police he imagined. He saw people standing along the edges, along the sidelines staring and pointing at him. He could see some of them smiling with anticipation, waiting for the big finale.

God! Why was it taking so long?

Phillip Masters yelped as his fall abruptly, almost fatally jerked up short. Even over the sudden roar of a jet engine he could hear his bones and joints popping with the sudden shift in direction. He felt his stomach lurch up in his throat as his breakfast spewed out over the waiting crowd. There was a justice in that he supposed.

Masters was still shivering from fear and adrenaline as he squirmed about and craned his neck to see what had happened. He had been caught, obviously, but by whom. Not the Torch, as there was no heat. By the sound of the jets he figured Iron Man, but when he saw the glint of reflected sunlight on the polished shades of green metal he knew better of course. A Guardsman; he was under arrest.

The SHIELD agent said nothing as he flew down at a thankfully slower speed. Masters did his best to calm himself, though he clenched his eyelids shut for the remainder of the flight as soon as he saw that they were approaching some sort of a Command Center set up outside of the main entry to the Baxter Building on Madison. As such and unprepared, his landing was a bit rough.

“Phillip Masters,” he heard instantly recognizing the rough and gravelly voice that he remembered from so many times before. Gingerly he opened his eyes, his mutilated hand nervously, happily patting the concrete sidewalk beneath him. It was Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD.

“AKA, Also Known As the Puppet Master.” Fury smirked around the bit of his thick cigar as he glanced down rather condescendingly at Masters. Phillip had never liked the arrogant bastard, especially since that first meeting years ago when they had taken him into custody for ‘interrogation’ to hopefully somehow enhance their in house Mental unit; the ESP-ers. When they had discovered- after weeks—that the Puppet Master’s powers just did not work in any way that they could capitalize on they had shipped him off to Project Pegasus for study, and then finally to the Vault. It had not been one of his more memorable adventures.

“Yah with me Phil?”

Masters blinked to find Fury squatting down right in front of him and blowing smoke in his face. It smelled of good Cuban blended tobacco, just a hint of rum. Rank did have its privileges. Still, Masters choked as his stomach churned again, still unsettled from his impromptu flight.

“What’s goin’ on up there, Phil?” Fury asked, his one good eye scrutinizing Masters, burning into him and making him sweat and squirm with a look. “Richards handing out super powers by the look. You tryin’ ta fly?”

“No… n-no…” Masters whined, looking up the high expanse of the Baxter Building. God! Alicia was still inside. She was still in there with…

With…

“You’ve got to stop him!” Masters shouted actually reaching out and grabbing Fury by the shoulders. It was so sudden and out of character for the Puppet Master that Fury was actually caught off guard and let it happen. Both men heard the sounds of weapons powering up and locking into place. Masters ignored the sounds, his already bulging eyes growing huge with worry even as Fury waved them off, glancing curiously at the crushed pulp that had been Masters’ right hand. Oddly, despite the blood and shattered bone, there was no pain.

“Stop who, Phil?” Fury said, his own hands falling on Masters’ wrists. “Geiger? We know the Frightful Four’s taken over the building. Our agent inside…”

“No!” Masters spat, returning his gaze on Fury. He was near frantic now, sweating. “Not Geiger! Not the Frightful Four! It was Grimm!”

“Grimm?” Fury asked, obviously confused.

“Yes, Grimm!” Masters shrieked, struggling to rise, maybe run for the doors. He had to get back up there. He had to save Alicia from that… that…

“What are you talking about, Masters? What’s Grimm…”

Masters squirmed and writhed, trying to get away, but Fury held him easily with one hand about both of his scrawny wrists, his shattered hand bloody and glowing, pulsing with the radiation of his last crushed puppet…

“The Thing you cretinous imbecile! He threw me out the window! He tried to kill me! And he’s still up there with Alicia! You have to stop him! He’s gone mad!”

Fury glanced skyward then, hearing something crash through one of the supposedly shatterproof windows. He released Masters to the security of two waiting Guardsmen, watching as a Wakandan Taku Class containment vessel shot into the path of whatever was flying out of the building- a desk by the look of it. The craft would use a generated magnetic field to catch the thing, and though that would wreck havoc on any computers in the area- among other electronic devices- it was a helluva lot better than having a desk land on top of some Idaho family of tourists too stupid to run.

Fury sighed, initializing the Com Link on his collar. “Code Amber, people. We have a potential ESP-er scenario with a Class 1000 player. Battle Stations in three!”

Fury left the link opening, half-listening to the chatter as he stared skyward. He sincerely hoped that Masters was wrong, or exaggerating at least, but Fury knew the way that the two Fours went at it, and he was probably right on the money. It had happened before, one of the FF or Avengers or X-Men going rogue. God willing, they would all survive this time so that it could happen again…

THING AMOK!

Part I: All in the Family

By Curtis Fernlund

The Baxter Building
Madison Avenue at 42nd Street
Manhattan, New York
Inside…

Crystal Amaquelin Maximoff stared in shock and horror at the look of sheer hatred twisting the rocky face of her friend. Ben Grimm was literally shivering with rage as he hammered on the invisible wall separating him from the others, the rest of the Fantastic Four. The floor, the very building itself seemed to shake with each powerful blow, the sheer, unadulterated force of every impact exploding like a sonic boom, the very sound making them all reel.

She turned to look at the others, all backing nervously away from the Thing’s assault, trying to be out of reach should the Invisible Woman’s Force Shield falter. Susan Richards was sweating, swaying on her feet with every blow at the psychic backlash. She was probably the most powerful member of the famous quartet, but against such a bestial and unrelenting attack even she was put to task. Her face was twisted in concentration, shifting only to wince in pain at the Thing’s latest blow. Her beautiful golden hair was slick and matted to her face with perspiration. She was pale, looking weaker by the second, and the only thing that kept her on her feet it seemed was the supporting hand of her husband, Reed Richards.

Mister Fantastic seemed awash in unfamiliar and conflicting emotion. Crystal could see the deep concern etched into his usually stoic face. Love, both for his wife and his best friend sparkled in his dark eyes as he whispered words of support into Susan’s ear, perhaps instructions. Crystal knew that no matter the circumstance, no matter the calamity that the leader of the world’s greatest fighting team was always thinking, always planning. His was the single greatest mind on the face of the Earth, and Crystal knew that if anyone could reason out what was wrong with Grimm and how to stop him safely, it was he.

She had no idea where the Human Torch was. She had last seen Johnny Storm swatted through the ceiling, disappearing into the floors above with the Hydro Man hot on his trail. Neither had returned as yet, and that worried her. She knew of course that Johnny could take care of himself, but he had hardly been in any shape to fight the way that he had smashed through the ceiling. It surprised her actually just how worried she felt; how much she still cared. She had thought herself long over her feelings for Johnny Storm, but with her own recent friction in her marriage with Quicksilver, and his stealing away Luna their daughter, then the support and comfort that she had received not only from Johnny but the entire Fantastic Four, well…

Old feelings seemed to be swelling within her once again. That made her nervous, and, oddly happy as well. She had missed her adopted Earthen family more than she cared to admit, apparently. That was something that she would have to deal with later however.

Crystal stumbled and pressed back against the wall as the Thing roared, his fist warping the invisible shield to within inches of the group. Susan moaned from the effort, but the field held, though for just how much longer was debatable. She glanced down and saw that she was all but standing on the unconscious form of Josef Geiger, the Wingless Wizard and terrorist that had started all of this apparently months ago. He looked shattered, lying there unconscious and mostly naked at her feet. His magnificent armor had been little proof against the fury of the Invisible Woman as she had held him, torturing him as she stripped his armor from his body. And with good reason…

Geiger had gathered a new team for his Frightful Four. With the exception of the Trapster—now sprawled unconscious as well on the far side of the room thanks to Crystal’s own elemental powers—his new team had consisted of the Hydro Man, the Controller and the Puppet Master. An odd group at first inspection, but when one considered their overall scheme made more sense. They had tracked down the Puppet Master’s niece, Alicia Masters first, taking and controlling her by various means. They had not only incorporated the Puppet Master’s radioactive dolls to control Alicia’s mind, but the Control Disks of Basil Sandhurst as well. Add to that the Behavior Modifying Machine that Geiger had created years before and they were able to twist Alicia’s very personality into something bordering on evil- at least for her. Sociopathic maybe would be a better term in her case, caring about very little. Then they did the same to the Thing, though of course Geiger had not been satisfied to stop there.

They had captured Medusa similarly when the evil FF had invaded the Baxter Building, or so Crystal surmised. Her sister, Madame Medusa, Queen of the Inhumans and wife of Black Bolt had escaped captivity at the hands of Maximus the Mad. Black Bolt’s brother had captured the Inhuman Royal Family as well as Attilan itself, driving the people beneath his dictatorial heel. Medusa had come to Earth to get the help of the fantastic Four, and had succeeded, though she had remained behind from severity of her wounds and imprisonment when the FF had traveled to the moon. In her weakened state she had easily fallen victim to Geiger’s mad control. Medusa now lay not so far from the Trapster and Sandhurst, blessedly unconscious from the Controller’s last ditch attempt to siphon her strength in order to stand up to the Thing. A fool’s errand it seemed.

Crystal had no idea where Masters was now, or her uncle the Puppet Master for that matter, but she could only imagine by the Thing’s rage that she had been hurt or injured somehow. Too, where were the children? Lockjaw had teleported away with Franklin Richards she knew, hopefully to Attilan, but what of Valeria? The last she had seen of the girl, Richard’s young daughter, she had been in the arms of Alicia Masters. She hoped that the baby was safe as it seemed there would be no reasoning with Ben Grimm at the moment. Thing’s- as it were- were about to get ugly…

“Susan…” Crystal turned to hear Reed Richard’s voice as he leaned closer to his wife’s ear. The Invisible Woman seemed on the verge of collapse, but biting her lip in concentration she weakly nodded to acknowledge her husband. “Griffin…” he whispered, repeated and she saw Susan nod again.

Crystal’s own brow curled in confusion as she tried to recall the relevance of the word. A command obviously, a plan of attack, but beyond the association of the mythical beast as well as the strange villain that had taken the name some years back she could not see the pattern. Then she looked back to the Thing, and finding him gone, understood.

She felt the air shift dramatically as the invisible wall fell, reforming tightly about the now equally invisible Thing. Susan she knew had wrapped her teammate up tightly within a constraining field, like a blanket almost though of course far stronger. Adding to the shock value she had used her powers to make the Thing seemingly disappear as she was now squeezing her field tighter and tighter. She was forcing the oxygen out of her containment, while keeping the Thing confused and off balance as he could not see his own body, and possibly anything as well. It was a combination of attacks; part of one that had worked on Grimm once before, and the other, which had once defeated the Hulk. However, the way the floor still shook, along with the muted, snarling grunts coming their way Crystal had a feeling that they were all about to learn that even in his near bestial state, Benjamin J. Grimm was not the Hulk.

Susan dropped to one knee, her eyes closing as she gritted her teeth against the assault on her field. She closed her hands into fists, struggling to keep the Thing contained and invisible, driving the air from his lungs. Crystal could only imagine the pain that she was suffering, the mental backlash of the Thing’s assault.

Crystal heard Susan Richards scream as the room seemed to explode. She felt the remnants of the force field like strips of damp cloth as it burst outward, dissolving before the Thing’s incredible strength. Perhaps Susan was just too exhausted to contain Grimm, or perhaps in his rage he was just too powerful, but the plan had failed. As Susan Richards moaned and fell unconscious to the floor, Crystal saw the Thing as he faded back into view, gasping for air, his rock-like visage a mask of hatred and anger.

“Ya think… I’m stupid… Richards? Ya think I can’t… hold my breath? What am I, deaf?”

Grimm simply swept his arm aside in his rage, his blow striking a desk and sending that flying through space. The desk smashed through one of the safety windows, shattering glass that had already been weakened by the fierce battle. Crystal gasped, her concern for the innocents beyond when she saw a small transport craft flit through her line of sight. She recognized the emblem of SHIELD in that brief glimpse and thanked Agon that they were on the job. Perhaps if they- she and Reed could hold out, help would arrive soon.

The floor shook, breaking her from her reveries and sending her sprawling into Richard’s inflated arms. She looked up again to see Grimm once more stalking forward, the floor behind him shattered where he had stomped. He seemed incredibly powerful, more so than she could recall.

“Better keep yer mind on the job, red,” he sneered and crystal saw then the char and ash about his face, the redness of his eyes. He had been burned, and that meant only one thing…

Johnny!

Elsewhere…

“C’mon Storm, Wakey-wakey…”

Debra Bernard kneeled on the floor, adjusting her position as she slapped the Human Torch perhaps a bit too roughly on the cheek. She sighed, shifting the weight of little Valeria, dangling happily from her harness at Debra’s breasts, giggling at the absurdity of it all.

“A-goo…”

“Easy for you to say, kid,” Debra said with a smirk, leaning back on her heels as she heard the sounds of battle from several floors below. She had peered through the hole in the ceilings that the Torch had carved earlier when he had crashed through, but everyone but the unconscious Trapster was out of view. She had no idea what was happening, but from the sounds of things, she had to fear the worst.

After escaping from the Thing and the unconscious Alicia Masters she had taken little Valeria and made a mad dash for the exit. She had hoped that after all the damage to the building that maybe the stairs had unlocked, or one of the ‘Jetson’ Tubes as Franklin called them. Her luck however had remained true to form. The building remained in Lock Down.

She had tried every out that she could think of. Again, and nothing. Eventually she made her way back to the Living Quarters where she had found Valeria’s chest harness and strapped the wayward baby in tightly. Debra had even taken a second to put on her boots before charging back into action. Like it or not, she needed help. She needed to get the baby to safety- out of the death trap Baxter Building, and for that she needed the only member of the Fantastic Four that was not in the middle of trying to stay alive.

But of course, even out cold Johnny Storm was a prick.

Debra glanced at the still unconscious form of Morris Bench. The Hydro Man had not moved a muscle, his head still leaking blood from the gash she had earlier beat into his skull. She hoped that he was not dead, though there was really no way to tell. He did not breathe, and for all she knew he had no internal organs. He was bleeding though, so that was a good sign. Still, she would rather he was dead than in her face and trying to drown her and the baby. And Storm of course.

“C’mon you ass,” Debra said as she slapped his face once more. She wished she had some smelling salts, anything to help. By the size of the goose egg on his head however, she knew that he was down for the count. She knew what to do from her SHIELD medical training, but that all suggested letting him sleep, keeping him warm until help arrived. Storm unfortunately at the moment was the one best hope of getting that help into the building. It was a Catch-22 if she ever heard one.

Debra Bernard sighed again, jiggling and bouncing the baby as she stood, one hand on her hip. She needed to try something else she knew as she scanned the room. She wished that she could dip a glass into Bench and just splash water into Storm’s face, but she did not know if the water would hurt someone like the torch even more in his present state. That in turn left out the fire extinguisher along with anything else that would wake up a normal person.

“Any ideas, Val?” she asked, giving the baby a grin as she thumped the Torch in the leg with the toe of her cowboy boot.

“Gahhh?”

Debbie’s smile widened as she looked down at the sprawled form of Johnny Storm. “Yeah, baby,” she cooed, easing her foot up between his legs towards his unprotected crotch. “That just might work.”

Debra cocked her foot back onto the heel of her boot and angled the toe over Johnny’s privates. She had to remind herself that in the end he would probably thank her. He was God’s gift to women after all- at least in his own mind. Slowly Debra began to step down, increasing the weight and pressure on the ball of her foot. She saw him stir after a moment and eased off just a bit. Nothing, so she started in again.

She heard the Torch moan as she increased the pressure, and even through the thick leather sole of her boot she could feel his reactions. He rolled his head to the side, and Debbie saw the slight curl on his lips. The little prick was enjoying it—as expected. Debbie leaned in…

“Yah!”

Debra Bernard stepped back quickly as the Torch’s eyes popped wide open and he swiftly sat bolt upright. She turned at an angle, protecting the baby as she felt a quick wash of heat roll over her, licks of flame sprouting and just as swiftly dying on Storm’s body. She saw him blinking, swaying as he tried to focus. He winced in pain as he touched the lump on the back of his head.

“Jesus, Deb,” he moaned, finally looking up and seeing the SHIELD agent turned nanny along with his happy, giggling niece. Debra smirked as he closed his legs. “What… What happened?”

“What didn’t?” Debra said, offering a hand to help Storm get on his feet. He took it, wincing again and holding her hand as he swayed on shaking legs. “Easy, Torch. You’re probably concussed. Deep breaths now. Try to focus and listen.”

Swiftly Debra explained what had happened and all that she knew. She watched the Torch as she spoke, holding his arm to help steady him as he listened and regained his strength. She could see that his eyes were glassy a bit, the bump on his head causing him no end of pain, but as her tale unfolded little by little she could see the wincing expression on his face change to concern over his family. Arrogant little conceit that he was, he still cared, and he WAS a hero.

She saw storm lick his lips as he eased away from her to stand on his own. He staggered a bit, but she could see the determination on his face as he looked down the hole, listening. They both gasped at a flash of light from below, followed by a rumble of thunder that shook the floor.

“Crystal…” the Torch whispered, stepping closer to the melted edge. He flexed his hands into fists over and over.

“No…” Debra said, reaching towards him then quickly backing away with a yelp of surprise.

“Flame on!” the Torch said and his body erupted into a blaze of fire. Debra spun back and away, hugging the baby to her chest against the sudden heat.

“Torch, you ass!” she shouted. Nanny or not, she needed him to listen. “Don’t…”

“Get my niece to safety, Deb,” Storm said as he rose slowly into the air, feeling his strength and power. “Get her out of the building.”

“Wait!” she shouted, but it was no use as the Human Torch shot up, angled and then rocketed back down through the hole leaving a wispy trail of smoke in his wake. Debra fumed…

“Dammit!” she cursed, easing closer to the hole as the heat faded. She peered in, but the Torch was out of sight. “God dammit!”

“Aw… Goo?”

Debra looked to Valeria, the baby in turn looking up at her with wide blue eyes. Debbie forced a smile and bounced the baby in her harness, making Valeria laugh.

“Don’t tell nobody kid, but your uncle’s an idiot.”

Valeria giggled merrily at that, ignoring Debbie’s sigh. There was nothing left to do but go down again and hope for the best. Maybe Grimm would rip a hole in the side of the building and Spider-Man would swing by to save her.

“Hey,” Debra said as she eased down to sit, letting her legs dangle into the hole as she cradled the baby. “It could happen.”

Valeria laughed as the two dropped out of sight.

The Empire State Building
Observation Deck
Fifth Avenue at 34th Street
Cross-town…

Kari Hunter lowered the short-range Magni-scope and stared at the Baxter Building unaided. The viewer discerned nothing that her own sight could show. The walls of the Headquarters of the Fantastic Four had been formed as proof against outside scrutiny.

The airspace about the building was a flurry with craft however, of various size and shape. She saw transports and assault vehicles in the form of sky sleds manned by women in sleek, dark armor. Too, she saw the now familiar armored forms of the Guardsmen in flight pattern circling the structure. Why they had not begun their assault she did not know. Perhaps they were concerned for the innocents within the building. The humans were overly sentimental and cautious in that area. Kari shrugged.

It did not matter, really. Innocents be damned, the Fantastic Four would fall eventually. Better of course that they stand trial at the hands of the Accusers, but should they be eliminated through some stroke of fate by one of their countless Earthen foes, well, that would get the mission accomplished just as well.

As she watched however, Kari felt a bit of unease. She had wanted the victory to be hers and on her record. She wanted the Accusers to get their just due after the countless defeats of Ronan and the others at the hands of the Four, and the Avengers, and all of the Earthen scum. She wanted the Supremor’s praise, but for some strange reason she was feeling… concern.

She had seen the activity at the building. She had seen the explosions, the flashes of light and the debris bursting from the structure. She knew that the Fantastic Four had skill, and most often luck, but she seemed almost worried over their fate. And even stranger, the fate of the Torch. It was as if she was starting to care…

“No…”

Kari Hunter whispered, her hand going to her chest as she turned away. Gods of Hala, she had caught the disease. She could feel her heart racing, her pulse pounding. She was starting to sweat. Could it be true?

The disease had swayed and corrupted so many before her. Mar Vell… Yon Rog… Even great Ronan himself. If it had hold of her…

If only she could contact the Task Force, but she had lost contact with the ship two days prior. It had something to do with the cursed Avengers she knew, and their assault on the Kree warrior, Noh-Varr! The ship was hidden within range, in the system’s Asteroid Belt, but if the Avengers had found it there…

And where did that leave the mission?

Should she continue? Should she abandon the task and get off world? Should she return to defend Hala? She did not—

“Miss?”

Kari turned, her hands up ready to strike. She saw the fat old man in the gray uniform marking him as Security at her back, his hand tapping her shoulder. She was so far gone that she had allowed that to creep up on her undetected? She eased back, staring into his wide, terrified eyes.

“Yes?” she said, forcing control into her voice, suppressing her emotions. Damn Storm! Damn Earth!

“Sorry… ma’am,” the old man said, backing away with his hand resting on the archaic slug-thrower strapped to his hip. “Police say we need to vacate the Deck.” He pointed towards the Baxter Building. “SHIELD…”

“I understand.” Kari Hunter forced a slight smile. “No problem.”

She glanced back a final time before following the guard towards the elevators along with the cattle. There was a weather disturbance growing about the Baxter Building. The Inhuman half-breed no doubt, using her elemental abilities. Lightning flashed, arching skyward and the chattel screamed, running for cover. It was getting dark, starting to rain…

The Baxter Building
Madison Avenue at 42nd Street
Manhattan, New York

Crystal Amaquelin Maximoff was in her element. She was in tune, in touch with the forces of nature itself. She drew on the unstable air, calling forth the change from beyond to come to her aid. She could feel the changing fronts spiraling at her call. She could feel the charge of static, the pressure fluctuating all around her, beyond the confines of the building. Her hair whipped about her face, blowing debris as she called forth the winds and the rains. The skies outside were darkening at her command. Good!

Lightning flashed arching through the gaping hole in the side of the Baxter Building. She laughed to see Richard’s hair stand on end as he cradled his wife, protecting her from the onslaught. There was no need to worry. Crystal Amaquelin Maximoff was not some mutant or brittle, brass god. Crystal was an Inhuman. She was the Exquisite Elemental!

Benjamin J. Grimm screamed as the lightning found its mark, driving into his chest and throwing him back to crash on the far side of the room. Crystal saw chipped and charred orange stone break free as he flew away. She could smell the burn of the strike and reveled in the rumble of thunder that shook her to the core. She strode forward barely affording Richards a glance as she raised her hands and let the sparks fly from her fingertips. She stepped over Geiger, ignoring him and his shattered, twisted form, her eyes and baring focused solely on the task at hand.

She heard Grimm moan, saw him stir as already he struggled to rise, trying to pull himself from the debris that his impact had caused. His chest smoldered and hissed, sparks still dancing uselessly over his rocky hide. She had hurt him she knew, but not enough. Had she held back from friendship? Perhaps, or maybe he WAS stronger than she recalled, but whatever the reason, he was struggling to rise.

“Stay down, Mister Grimm,” she warned. It was the right thing to do. “I do not wish to hurt you.” She heard the Thing chuckle, a cold, hard thing that sent a shiver racing along her spine.

“That’ll be the day, kid. You gave yer warnin’ shot,” he growled, standing at last. “Me too.” He stepped forward and Crystal unleashed again.

Lightning slammed into Grimm’s chest once more, but this time rather than throwing him back he simply grunted, staggering a bit before he shifted his weight and absorbed the brunt of the impact. His armored hide was awash in sparkling light as he grinned, his teeth glowing blue from the discharge.

“Strike two, kid.”

“No!” Crystal shouted and called forth the rain. The Thing was inundated instantly, drenched to the core as the spark of electricity flared again. Just as swiftly the Inhuman swept her arms to the side as she commanded the temperature to drop. She felt the driving rain blowing past on gale force winds as she directed sleet and snow and hail at her old friend. Grimm staggered for a bit, unprepared for the initial assault, the abrupt change but soon enough he began to force his way forward again.

“Strike three, babe,” he hissed through chattering teeth. He was coated with snow and ice almost from head to toe, but somehow he was still struggling on, reaching out and back. Crystal increased her assault; doubling… trembling… he had to fall! “Yer out!”

Grimm swung, and even above the winds of her own design she could feel the force of the blow, which miraculously did not connect. She felt the sudden tightness about her midsection as Richards’ arms wrapped about her, yanking her up and back and out of harm’s way. She heard the Thing’s bellow of rage as well, even as she fell back to Reed Richards’ side.

“Reed! I…” she started to say, thank you or sorry she was not certain.

“Fog, Crystal!” Richards said, coiling in his arms to give her the freedom that she needed. She stared at him, then glanced at Susan there on the ground. “Fog!” he shouted again, and she complied.

She waved her hands and mist appeared, roiling and churning on the escaping winds. She could feel the moisture in the air, thickening, tightening about them all. She watched, twisting her fingers, gesticulating madly to get the fog to build at a rapid pace. She could see Grimm, his form slowly fading, his head twisting in sudden confusion.

“Yah think this’ll stop me?” she heard him bellow, his voice sounding closed in and far away. “I was a pilot, babe. Little thing like fog don’t scare me none.”

That made her pause of course. Grimm was right in that. Hopefully Richards had a plan. Of course he did.

She felt something warm slither and snake past her ankles, along the debris-littered floor towards the Thing. Mister Fantastic was taking a hand? She hoped so. She heard Susan moan, thank Agon.

There was a sudden blast of heat and light from above and Crystal suddenly saw the Human Torch come soaring down through the gaping hole in the ceiling. His fire cut through the mist quickly he was burning so hot and bright. Crystal closed her fists, trying to compensate. “Johnny! No!”

“Crys?”

She saw Grimm’s silhouette as he simply reached up and plucked the Human Torch from the sky. The flame did not seem to bother him in the least, nor the sound of Johnny’s sudden yelp of surprise. Crystal screamed as she saw Johnny whip down at incredible velocity, slamming into the floor in a blaze of fire that quickly spat, sparked and died away as the fog rolled in again. She heard Grimm chuckle…

“That’s two, Richards. Ya know I got no real beef with the kids. Do the right thing and let’s get this over with.”

“I’m right here, Ben.”

Crystal gasped to hear Reed Richards right behind her. She had not even sensed his approach, as though he had simply, suddenly appeared. Some bizarre restructuring of his molecules she imagined, but—

“Ice the hole…” she heard him say, his voice soft and monotone. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her ear and neck he was so close, but ‘ice the hole’?

She heard Grimm’s yelp of surprise followed by the massive thoom of his weight as he fell. Richards had grabbed him, tripped him up and she could feel his arms slipping past her ankles again. She could hear the rough grating of the Thing’s rocky skin as Richards strained to drag him across the floor.

“Now, Crystal! Now!” Richards shouted and she could hear the strain in his voice. Too, she could hear Grimm’s surprise and confusion slowly turning to comprehension as he scrambled for purchase. Crystal laid down a sheet of ice with a sweep of her hand, the other grabbing Reed to help him stabilize. It was not necessary.

She saw as the fog started to dissipate in the sudden chill that Mister Fantastic had stretched himself about the room, anchoring his body to anything that would hold and support the sudden shift in weight. She jumped aside as she saw his face grimace, his outstretched arms bunching at the shoulders as he heaved with all the strength and leverage that he could muster. His rubbery arms came shooting back like rubber bands stretched to their limit. Like a sling shot, and like a stone, the Thing came rocketing past, sliding easily on the sheet of ice that she had created.

“Whaaa…”

She saw the Thing shoot out the hole in the wall, arching out as he twisted, trying to right himself and clawing at the empty air for purchase that was not there. Richards had shot him thus, and the angle and lip at the hole had driven him up and out and Crystal stared as he reached the apex of his arch, hovering there for a moment and looking stupefied. Then he started to fall…

Crystal swept the ice away with a wave of her hand, the temperature increasing as she dashed to the hole. She saw Grimm falling, like a rock.

“I would have worried once that a fall from this height might do him serious injury.”

Crystal yelped, starting to see Reed Richards’ head stretched out on his elongated neck and right at her side. He glanced at her, his eyes bulging to see better the thing’s decent.

“Ben’s changed, however. Not just mentally either. Obviously the combined manipulations of the Controller’s disks, Masters’ puppetry and Geiger’s Behavior Modification has affected him on some psychological level. However, Ben’s recent contact with the Grey Gargoyle along with his newfound latent ability to shift forms at will has somehow not only increased his strength, but his resilience as well. Before that a fall from such a height would have injured him gravely, if not killed him outright. Now…”

Both winced to hear the muffled crash as far below the Thing finally hit. Smoke and dust rose quickly, obscuring all but the outer edges of the crater that Grimm’s impact had created. They watched from above, but there was little to see.

“He’s moving…” Richards said, his eyeball extended to a sickening, abnormal length. It twisted, turning to Crystal before sucking back into place inside his skull. “He’s Fury’s problem for the time being. We need to regroup. See to Johnny, and then we need to find…”

“Hey!”

Both Crystal and Mister Fantastic shot to the defensive as a lithe form dropped down through the hole in the ceiling. Sparks erupted from Crystal’s fingertips as she prepared to call the lightning, hesitating only when Richards waved her down. She looked again to the new threat and saw a young woman with her arms up in warding. She saw too little Valeria dangling in harness at her chest.

“The nanny,” Crystal said with a sigh, powering down again at Reed’s confirmation. Crystal looked at the handsome young woman, trying to smile despite the situation. She saw the woman sag, bouncing the baby as she staggered forward. She seemed exhausted.

“Sorry for the abrupt entrance, Professor, but I figured it was clear now. I saw what happened.”

Richards nodded as he stretched forward, his hands cradling his daughter as he stretched his face to coddle and cuddle her cheek to cheek. Valeria giggled and bubbled with the affection. Crystal saw the young woman looking at her with a slight, tired smile. “Crystal, right? I’m a big fan. Debbie Bernard, agent of SHIELD and full time nanny.”

Crystal took the woman’s hand and shook it, wishing circumstances were better. She wished that they had time to talk, but instead she nodded to the Torch at their feet and knelt down to help the man she once loved.

“Is Mister Grimm…” she heard the nanny start, but Reed Richards cut her off.

“No. He’s alive, and still a problem. I will save him, but first we need to…”

“Reed…”

“Susan!”

Reed Richards shot to his wife’s side, his pliant body coiling like a snake about her as he cradled her in his arms. He held the baby as well, and that alone seemed to make her sensible, waking her all the faster. Crystal felt a lump in her throat, tears in her eyes as she watched. Gods, she missed her daughter…

Outside…

“Medics! I want Medics here! Now!”

Nick Fury shouted orders, certain that they would be obeyed as he closed distance on the crater that the Thing had made when he hit. The impact was little short of a bomb, blowing back cars and people alike, crushing the tarmac and sending rippling shock waves for blocks in a huge radius. There had been no chance to catch the Thing, as unlike Masters and his free fall, Grimm was just too blasted heavy. It had been hard as hell to watch his friend plummet. He only hoped that he could help him now, if he needed it.

Somewhere in the back of his mind though, Nick Fury remembered what Masters had said…

He’s gone mad…

Fury ground down on his cigar, staring into the swirling dust and dirt, considering.

“Guardsman! Formation Theta!”

He heard the roar of boot jets even as the armored guardsmen shifted into position overhead. Four of them at the points of the compass with their Repulsors primed for all out assault. Overkill? Maybe, but better safe than sorry in this business. That attitude had gotten him through five wars so far.

Fury raised a hand as the rubble shifted, starting to fall away. More dust rose as a bulky, shadowy figure struggled to stand. He licked his lips, staring, trying to pierce the gloom. “Ben?”

“Hiya, Nicky…”

Fury felt a shiver at the cold words. He actually staggered back a step to see the mammoth, monstrous Thing as he shambled forward. His chest was charred black, his face jagged and scarred, but the man beneath the rock seemed to ignore the pain, if there was any. He grinned and Fury shivered again.

“What’s a matter, Nicky?” Grimm chuckled, striding from the crater. At the edge he stretched, then popped his knuckles as he made a fist, slamming it into the opposite palm. “Ya don’t look happy ta see me…”

Ben Grimm laughed as Fury pulled his little, tiny gun and fired.

It was on…

NEXT: The one you’ve been waiting for as Ben Grimm, AKA the Ever-lovin’ Blue-eyed Thing takes on the assembled might of Marvel Omega (or at least a portion there of). But will that be enough to stop the radically different, really pissed-off Thing? Come back next time for Part 2 of… “THING AMOK!” You’ll be sorry if you miss it!