Luna
Attilan
Some… When…

“You can’t catch me!”

Aero laughed as he swirled and dove, diving amongst crystal minarets and the golden spires of Attilan. He laughed at the slow, downtrodden masses forced to spend their lives trudging the dismal streets of the capital city. Forever weighted down by mass and gravity, never to know the freedom of the skies, never to relish the bliss of flight. He laughed as he arched higher, keeping the glowing red markers in his peripheral vision so as not to pass from the city’s atmosphere, that flimsy, amorphous shell that surrounded the Blue Area of the Moon that contained the Great Refuge. Though he was somewhat resilient in the areas of friction and oxygen, he knew that his comely partner was not, and he would not have her inadvertently flutter off into the icy cold depths of space.

He glanced back, smiling widely as he watched Iridia, her gorgeous butterfly-like wings beating madly as she hurried to catch him. She was smiling too, lost in the chase, their little game of ‘tag’ as the Humans called it, though taken to a higher degree than mere Humans could ever hope to achieve. He eased his speed, watching her grace and beauty as she soared ever higher, trying to keep up. He was faster of course, not encumbered with wings, his body in synch with gravity itself; a force of nature. And he had been flying since a babe, whereas Iridia had only had her Inhuman trait for a few years. She had been a hag, her skin mottled, her face a horrid mockery. Blackagar Boltagon, His Royal Majesty Black Bolt had taken pity on her- to the protestations of some of the more vocal of the Royal Family- and had sent her to the Terrigen Mists, where she evolved into a new and beautiful- and yes desirable- member of society.

Aero swooped, spinning about the towers with ease, spiraling higher and spreading his arms wide before soaring in a wide loop back towards the woman he had come to love. He saw her, arching up to meet him, but frowned as he saw her beauteous face twisted in fear and confusion. She’s screaming something, but he couldn’t hear, as she was yet too far away, and pointing. Pointing behind him, beyond. Aero turned…

The fiery bolt of green plasma energy enveloped him. He felt his skin start to crack and boil as the radioactive energies washed through him, searing every fiber of his being. He felt a bright, intense pain for a split second –

Then died.

Iridia screamed…

MEANWHILE, ON THE MOON…

By Curtis Fernlund

The Royal Palace

“She barely eats. She rarely speaks. I fear she is getting worse by the day.”

“Can you blame her? If it was your son lost in… that, would you be any less depressed, cousin? Would you be any less determined, or any less frustrated?” Karnak gestured at the blue jewel of the Earth floating high over the horizon. It was not quite full, yet he could still see the slight changes in the continents and oceans, could still see the strange rippling waves that washed over the surface of their native home at odd intervals.

Something was happening on Earth. They had lost contact with all of their old allies weeks before; the Avengers and the Fantastic Four were gone for all intents. As were the various feeds from the planet’s satellites. In the Chamber of Science they had set up communications to monitor the random news feeds that the planet and its peoples broadcast, but of late there had been only one live feed, and that a form of racist propaganda likening back to the time that the Humans named the Second World War.

The Nationalists, Karnak thought they were called. Humans who zealously pursued racial purity to the extent of eliminating those other, ‘lesser’ races to achieve their goals. Listening to the news feeds, one might think that they were running the planet- absurd as that notion was.

Perhaps it was Grimm, playing a prank.

But still there was the odd rippling effect.

“I suppose,” Medusalith Amaquelin Boltagon agreed, grudgingly. “But she’s my sister. I worry about her.”

“As do we all,” Karnak said, picking up his pace to keep up with the longer stride of his cousin and queen. They were walking through the Hall of Reflection, the crystalline windows overhead revealing a starry sky and the waxing Earth set on a velveteen field of black. “We all care for Crystal. We all worry. We watched her grow up and grew to love the woman that she has become. We wish her peace and happiness.”

“I wish Pietro Maximoff death!” she hissed, her long, scarlet locks writhing in testimony to her rage. Karnak held back as the tresses of Madame Medusa churned and surged, gouging the walls and scoring the glass overhead. “This is his fault! Mutant bastard! He stole Luna away with no regard to his wife or her family. He had no right!”

Karnak held up his hands in a warding gesture. “He IS Luna’s father. He does have certain rights where his daughter is concerned. And his wife, by our laws.”

“He is an outsider. Always was. He has no rights,” Medusa snarled. Karnak knew that she was simply in a fit. Push came to shove she would honor Inhuman law as was her duty. Wrong as it seemed, the Mutant Quicksilver married into the Royal Family and thus became- at least in name- Inhuman, and granted the rights and privileges of a male Inhuman, over his wife and child. Those were the laws handed down for eons.

“You know that’s not the case. Your heart is speaking now.”

Medusa sighed, and Karnak heard the slightest sob at the edges of her breath. Karnak felt for his cousin, and her sister Crystal Amaquelin as well. He loved them both. They were family, but as a Priest of the Tower of Wisdom, he had to remain neutral and present an oblique front that all sides might be considered, good or bad. In truth, Karnak had never really liked Pietro, Son of Magnus, but it was never his place to judge- though in the past he often had. For that, he tried all the harder now, to make amends, and peace. In his heart, he thought it wrong that Pietro had spirited away his daughter- and Crystal’s. In his head, he acknowledged Quicksilver’s right to raise his daughter as he saw fit, and if that meant away from the Great Refuge and the Royal Family- and his wife, so be it.

Still…

WHOOM…WH-WHOOM!!! BOOM!

Both Karnak and Medusa stared skyward as the very foundations of Attilan rocked and quaked with the far off sounds of explosions. Dust spewed from cracks between ancient stone blocks in the walls and floor. The glass overhead shimmered, cracking. Karnak stepped to balance with grace as the hallway rippled, while Medusa’s hair stretched for purchase in the grooves and cracks of the trembling walls.

“What’s happening?” she asked, glancing back at him for explanation. Karnak shrugged as movement overhead caught his attention. His mouth went slack as his eyes widened in shock and surprise.

“Agon…”

Starships of every make, size and model were soaring past on the fringes of space. Huge starships; Kree Dreadnoughts and Skrull Imperial Cruisers flying side-by-side with Shiar Raptors and even a Technocrat Mothership far beyond. It was a ragtag armada that he could see, and made up of at least a dozen races that he recognized, but it was the Kree leading the pack, and that gave him worry. Too, he saw one and two man fighters shooting past almost too fast to track, lasers blazing, and more. There were Sentries, and men in Shatterstar armor flying in formation. They were attacking Attilan! But why?

“Cousin,” Medusa gasped, watching in awe as ship after ship passed by overhead. “Those are Kree ships flying in formation with Skrull and Shiar and more. What is happening? Why are they attacking us?”

“Not attacking us so much as securing position, I fear.” Karnak stared at the Earth as it shimmered again, wavering in space as though dipped in a roiling stream of water. Whatever is happening there,” he said, pointing, “has caught their attention, and worries them. Shades of the Phoenix still burn in their memories, as well as Reed Richards’ trial, the Avengers and the Nega Bomb, and how many other defeats at the hands of ‘mere Humans’. But for the likes of Reed Richards and his kin and ilk, I fear the Earth would have long ago been destroyed, our people enslaved for the glory of the Empire.

“And now, Reed Richards is gone… “

“Missing,” Medusa corrected as she picked up her pace, heading down the long hallway that would lead them from the Hall of Reflection and back down into the palace proper. Karnak raced to keep up. He was certain that Black Bolt must know what was happening, but his monarch and cousin would be requiring all his family and advisors gathered to defend the realm.

They ran on, he and Medusa, as the palace continued to quake about them…

The Depths

“Did you hear that?”

Crystal Amaquelin licked her lips, staring up at the high vaulted ceiling as the booming continued, echoing, resonating off of the ancient walls. She knew that they were safe in the catacombs that ran beneath Attilan; miles of ancient tunnels that now intersected with the even older Kree city that had been abandoned eons ago after the Grand Contest that had resulted in the age-old enmity between Kree and Skrull. Still, she shivered with every explosion, her eyes fearful as dust and rock filtered down from the shadows high overhead. She wondered what was happening.

“It sounds as though the city is under attack.”

Crystal turned to see her cousin, Triton, emerging from the depths of the fountain. It was one of the many entrances to the underground labyrinth of waterways that ran deeply beneath the Moon’s surface. Another facet of the abandoned Blue Area? Triton had yet to explore the full length of the Depths as he named it, though parts were definitely linked to the catacombs. She watched as he levered himself up and out with ease, his muscles rippling and powerful from his countless underwater excursions.

Dripping on the cold gray stone, he stared skyward with Crystal as another series of booming echoes reverberated through the tunnels. “We should return,” he said calmly. “If Attilan is under assault, Black Bolt will need us.”

“Of course,” Crystal agreed, spinning in place as she scanned the area. Her boots crunched on the recently fallen debris as she stepped away towards the shadows. “But we need to find Puppy first.”

Boom…

“Fine,” Triton acceded, “but hurry.”

Crystal eased down the corridor feeling the chill as the light from the chamber behind her receded. She called out- “Puppy!” but heard nothing. She chewed her lower lip as she went deeper into the dark, hoping that the progeny of Lockjaw was not too far Away.

“Puppy!” she called again, mentally cursing herself for not paying closer attention to the little beast. She had been trying desperately for weeks to get the pup to teleport her to Luna- her daughter, but Puppy’s powers of transportation were nowhere near as strong as his sire’s. Whatever was happening on Earth prevented the pup from reaching their old homeworld. She wished that Lockjaw would return, certain that her old friend could pierce the strange veil enveloping Earth, but he had vanished with Franklin Richards and the rest of the Fantastic Four when the strange energy had overwhelmed the planet.

“Pup – Eeee!”

“Crystal!”

Crystal screamed even as she ignited the smallest flicker of flame in the palm of her hand, bending the elements to her whim, as was her Inhuman gift. It was something she rarely did, especially around Johnny Storm; she not wanting to upstage the man she once loved. Here in the catacombs however, it was far too dark for her to see. When the flame ignited however, a hideously deformed face became illuminated.

Crystal Amaquelin felt her pulse racing, her heart hammering in her chest as she stared wide-eyed at the Alpha Primitive. The Alpha Primitives were the lowest caste on the Inhuman hierarchy. They were once believed to be mindless drones that did all the menial tasks that kept the Great Refuge functioning. They had been little more than slaves throughout Inhuman history, often used and abused and most often by Maximus the Mad. Black Bolt had freed them years ago, decreed that they were a part of the citizenry as valuable as any other Inhuman, but still they tended to keep to the tunnels and went about their tasks of old, still shunned by most of the populace, though no longer as abused.

“I’m sorry,” Crystal gasped as she stepped back, lowering the flickering flame away from the wincing Alpha Primitive. The creature nodded, grunting, then held up a squirming, furry mass for her inspection.

“Puppy!” she squealed with delight upon seeing the miniature version of Lockjaw. He was akin to a dog, but with a huge head that sported an electrode similar to Black Bolt’s and Lockjaw’s alike. The Alpha Primitive held the puppy out to her, nodding again, trying to smile sheepishly. She accepted the pup with all its squirming and licking, happy that he had been found. She would have been upset with the prospect had she been forced to leave the pup behind.

“Thank you,” she said, and the Alpha Primitive nodded, bowing almost before scurrying away back into the darkness of the tunnel.

“Crystal!”

Crystal Amaquelin turned and saw Triton rushing forward, still slick from his time in the water, his green, scaly skin shining in the light that she presented. He breathed out a long breath when he saw that she was well, and Crystal smiled at his concern.

“You’ve found the pup,” he said, eyeing the wriggling bundle in her arms. “Good. Let us leave this place then. I fear the worst.”

Triton spun on his heel and dashed back the way that he had just come. Crystal held the pup tightly and hurried after, worry knitting her brow.

The Throne Room

Blackagar Boltagon stared silently at the assembled courtesans that made up the Royal Court. They were mostly all shouting, trying to be heard over the din of their own voices that were being drowned out by the explosive assault of the invading armada and all speaking at once.

Tiligen the Court Secretary was advocating surrender, slamming the butt of his staff to the polished marble floor to make his point.

Enod, the Grand Vizier was suggesting retreating to the catacombs- ‘Give the invaders what they want!’ he shouted.

Gorgon was of course voicing retaliation, as was his wont as Head of Security and Sergeant at Arms.

And many others, each with an opinion, braying like Terran asses, all fearing death and destruction. Black Bolt wanted to scream and rage at their mindless droning. He wanted to order them all to silence. He wanted to shout to the Heavens and dismiss them all.

But of course he could not.

Arguably the most powerful of all the Inhumans, the monarch held his tongue. He knew better than all that his slightest whisper, a stray word would bring the palace, the very city itself crashing down to ruin. He had been forced to do so before, to use his gift, and would probably have to yet again. But not yet…

Black Bolt raised a hand and the caterwauling ceased.

He glanced at Karnak, eyes questioning.

“There has been no word as yet, my liege,” Karnak said, bowing slightly. “There was a brief message from a Shi’ar representative that we believe was to ask for our surrender, but it was truncated.”

Blackagar glanced at Gorgon, the big man standing at the base of the steps leading to the throne. His mane of dark hair was wild, his eyes crackling fiercely as he held his massive hooves at bay. “The army is defending the realm as best they might. We are woefully outmatched, milord. The alien races command greater firepower and countless forces. They have taken base on the edge of the city, near the Watcher’s sanctum. Our neighbor of course neglects to interfere.”

Black Bolt nodded, looking up at his queen. Medusa stood at his side, to the right and back, ready to do his bidding, whatever he decided. His hand flickered in a series of quick gestures that only a few of those gathered might interpret. He frowned, breathing slowly as he cast his gaze on the assemblage again.

“Our liege lord has decided that we will defend,” Medusa began, her voice loud and clear for all in the Great Hall to hear. “He regrets the ensuing loss of life that will result, but this is our home and we have struggled hard and fought valiantly to retain it. Until the Kree and their allies make their purpose known, we shall fight.”

Black Bolt stood, raising his arms high and outstretched. Energy crackled about the ‘fork’ affixed above his brow, and the assemblage stared, waiting. Finally he lowered his arms, his right hand slashing to the side and the room erupted in pandemonium. The courtesans ran to be about their duties and to relay his decrees. His family stood near, watching…

“Triton and Crystal have yet to heed the call, Blackagar,” Medusa said, her crimson tresses caressing his shoulders. “No one knows where they are, though they were seen heading into the Depths.”

Black Bolt nodded. Turning to Karnak, his hands and fingers flickered again.

“At once, milord,” Karnak said with a sharp bow and scurried off.

“Is it wise to activate the Seeker, milord?” Gorgon asked, regretting it as Black Bolt scowled at him. “Of course. All are needed. I will go and see to the armies now, by your leave.”

Bolt nodded, and shortly he and Medusa were alone

“What can we do, my love?” Medusa asked, her hand on her husband’s shoulder, fingers squeezing.

Black Bolt frowned, shaking his head. There was nothing to do but defend.

And wait…

The Watcher’s Domicile

Ronan the Accuser stared up at the huge white dome that was the ‘home’ of Uatu the Watcher. A scowl creased the blue skin of his face as he took in the sleek, seamless lines of the architecture, ancient and alien. There seemed to be no way within, but there also seemed to be no activity either, and that was good. The Watchers were an ancient and venerable race, noted for their lack of involvement in the affairs of the universe, consigned merely to watch. Ronan knew however that the particular Watcher stationed here on Earth’s satellite was never one to conform with the preachings of his people. Uatu became involved if the mood struck. Ronan did not need the Watcher involved now.

“We shall eliminate this,” he said, waving his Universal Weapon at the gleaming structure, “when we have dealt with the Inhumans and the Earth. Ignore it for now.”

His closest general- Ronn-Varr stiffly saluted and hurried off shouting orders. Troops were massing for the ground assault, exiting transports by the hundreds and forming in the vast open spaces there at the edge of the Royal City of Attilan. Ronan’s gaze swept the assembled masses; Kree and Skrull mainly, but squads of the hated Shiar, the Technocracy, and a dozen lesser races all armored and armed for the impending war- ne slaughter.

Ronan knew that the Inhumans would be a strong first defense against the Earth. From the outcome of past battles, he even offered them a modicum of respect. They were fierce and independent, and would fight to the last to keep their freedom. He knew too that their king could wipe out the allied armada with a whisper. But he knew as well that Black Bolt would not. He was a strong despot, but he would not sacrifice his people to save his people.

Black Bolt would remain silent.

And thus, victory was assured.

At least this first victory; the securing of Terra’s satellite as a Base of Operations to launch the coordinated assault on Sol III.

A scream of ionic energy caught his attention, and glancing skyward he watched a Tri-Patrol of Shatterstar Guard accompanying a Sentry in formation as they arched across the sky out and beyond the atmospheric bubble that surrounded the Blue Area. Beyond, the blackness of space was alight with the maneuverings of the assault force, the armada of the Alliance, such as it was. A hundred major ships, dozens of secondary and countless jump ships and fighter craft vying for position as the Lunar assault commenced. Overkill at this stage of course, but Ronan could not help but fret that they would be woefully outmatched in the final conflict.

The Terrans and their Marvels were a stubborn lot. And if it truly was the Phoenix again, out of control…

Or worse, if that was believable. Rumors were flying through the Armada. The Skrulls whispered of the Mad God, Thanos as the cause and culprit. The Mechanons wondered if perhaps an Elder of the Universe was at hand. There were thoughts of the rogue Magus, as Adam Warlock had always had ties with the Earth. Ronan even considered that it was some new threat spawned by the humans, a Terran suddenly mad with new power.

Of course in the end it did not matter. The Earth should have been decimated centuries ago, when the first spark of unnatural energy had been detected. The Terrans were a threat, like a virus barely held in check, a plague on the brink of breaking free of containment to contaminate the universe. They needed to be put down, and swiftly, and soon.

Quandary: History files relate that the Lunar inhabitants designated Inhumans were once indigenous of Terra/ Sol III and a sub-species of Kree heritage…

Ronan glanced with some annoyance at the Rigellian Recorder that had dogged his steps since the invasion began. His concession to the ‘Truce’ and Alliance, that his actions be preserved for Rigellian prosperity. “Your point, machine?”

Would matters not expedite to swifter resolution if said sub-species were inquired of assistance?

Ronan sighed. “Review your files, Recorder. The Inhumans were a failed experiment of the Kree that broke ties ages ago and declared independence. They are impure half-breeds, coupled with humans and will not be tolerated as an actual society. When the Earth is secured, the Inhumans will be culled, those deserving put to task, those not put to death.”

Transcribing. Updating files…

“You do that.”

Ronan stomped off, hoping to lose the Recorder as it rebooted, but he heard the robotoid hurrying along within a few strides. They were apparently as efficient as they were annoying.

He strode down the long lanes and corridors of the fringes of the city, which had been rebuilt several times just over the past few years to his knowledge. The structures of glass, stone and steel appeared new, while at the same time managed to look age old and worn. The architects had striven for nostalgia, their love for their Great Refuge showing in the artisanship and craftwork. Even here in the outlying areas where the lesser, mundane Inhumans lived and toiled the structures reared high and elaborately, becoming grander with every new street and block.

But of course the signs of war told on the structures as well. He saw the scorch marks of blaster fire in the stone, areas that had been blown out or away. Fires burned within many of the buildings, walls had toppled and city streets were broken and slick with blood. Bodies littered the walkways and gutters; soldiers and citizens. The ugly and twisted bodies lay in bizarre symmetry, ravaged or seared, faces locked in shock, fear and panic. Ronan smiled…

He saw the rear flank of the ground forces at last, pressing towards the city’s center and the Royal Palace, still two Terran miles distant at least. Energy weapons screamed flashing a myriad light display. Armored soldiers struggled forward alongside photon tanks that blasted a devastating swath before them. He heard the buildings explode with the onslaught, and reveled in the screams of the wounded and dying- each a blot on Kree history eradicated.

Overhead the Shatterstar warriors strafed the defenders, their ionic energies blazing as Tri-Patrols flashed in a strange aerial ballet. A Sentry reared above the ranks, a squirming humanoid with antlers sprouting from his brow struggling, at least for a moment. The Sentry ripped the Inhuman in half in a spray of blood and tossed the halves aside before dipping down into the melee again.

And the war machine pressed on. Ronan hoped that the other races were holding to their end of the bargain, assaulting from the various points of the compass and driving the Inhumans to the center of their precious Attilan. Ronan wanted the scum bottled up in their palace, where they would doubtless make a fruitless last stand. Then he would wipe them away in one fell swoop, as they deserved.

If they surrendered, so be it. He would then have the pleasure of publicly executing the Royal Family and their king and queen in righteous fashion. His glory and victory would be broadcast across the universe, and when he conquered the Terrans and forever destroyed their threat, he would be revered as deserved, and even the Supremor would respect him again.

“Accuser!”

“What?” Ronan hissed, turning on the Skrull scientist that had been assigned to his entourage. Quarrg was his name, if he recalled, a spindly piece of slime that should have been drowned at birth but for the fact that he could morph into an aquatic.

“I am reading a spike in temporal energy several meters beneath our current position.”

Ronan stared at the Skrull. “Why are you bothering me with this?” The Universal Weapon rotated in his grasp as he envisioned the Skrull’s head smashed open.

“It’s off the scale,” the Skrull sneered, fiddling with some hand held device that ‘beeped’ and ‘pinged’ and flashed an array of colors in various brilliance.

“Retaliation?”

The Skrull shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s gone now.”

“Keep watch, and let me know if it spikes again.”

The Skrull nodded but Ronan did not notice. He stared at the cracked stone at his feet. Was it a threat, or were the Royals abandoning their refuge? He could not imagine Black Bolt running out on his people, but perhaps he was sending them away.

A temporal spike could be interpreted as a portal. Was he evacuating the citizenry so that he could unleash his devastating powers without worry? If Ronan cared that is what he would do, and Black Bolt cared. That much he knew.

“Press the assault!” he shouted as he reached the rear guard. “No prisoners!”

And suddenly, Ronan the Accuser was worried…

The Depths

It was amazing.

Triton remembered well the Kree/ Skrull war of years ago. He had been in the thick of it actually, and had almost died as a result of his involvement and dedication…

It had been a hard time. Black Bolt had left the Great Refuge in the Himalayas to venture out amongst Humanity to determine the state of world affairs. The Inhumans had been cut off from mankind for decades, save for their connection with the Fantastic Four, and Blackagar had wanted to see first hand if Human and Inhuman might at last be able to live together in peace. But of course his plans and hopes had crumbled.

Maximus the Mad, brother to Black Bolt had seized control of the Great Refuge in the absence of the king, and had sealed away Attilan within a Nega Barrier once again. Triton had escaped through the deep, water filled caverns that only he could surpass and journeyed to America and New York to find his liege. The sojourn had been long and arduous, swimming half way across the globe, and once in Manhattan he had quickly been assaulted and hounded, a victim of hate and prejudice for his appearance. He had learned later that Skrulls had infiltrated key roles in Human civilization and had fanned the flames of bigotry and discontent, though Triton recalled that that particular fire was always on the verge of conflagration.

Regardless, he had found the amnesiac monarch with the aid of the Mighty Avengers, who then helped free the Inhumans even as Maximus’ plan to turn his brethren over to the Kree as fodder for their war with the Skrulls was revealed. Black Bolt had shattered the barrier and restored his people, and he himself back to the throne. With the Avengers they had driven the war away from Attilan, Triton secretly hoping that the age-old enmity between Kree and Skrull would result in the fall of both races…

And so it was that Triton was surprised- almost shocked to find a band of Skrull warriors prowling the Depths, forcing their way into the very heart of Attilan through the labyrinth of cavernous tunnels and in the company of a Kree Sentry! What threat or scheme might ever bring together two races that held such hatred for one another? And what did they want with the Inhumans?

There was of course no time to ponder any question save how to survive. The corridor that he and Crystal had been running through was suddenly ablaze with laser fire and threatening shouts as the Skrull soldiers charged after them after a surprise encounter at an intersection. Triton could hear their pursuers stampeding behind them, the thunderous strides of the huge Sentry echoing behind. He wondered how that monstrosity had made it through the tighter tunnels that led closer at the edges of the labyrinth, but then decided that the machine probably and simply smashed his way through. It took much to damage a Sentry as he recalled, and Triton doubted that the robot cared about the safety of the Skrulls one whit.

As they rounded a bend in the tunnel, his companion halted. Crystal leaned back against the cold, damp stone breathing hard as the laser fire ceased for a moment, out of sight of their pursuers. Triton looked at Crystal Amaquelin, breathing heavily himself in the brief respite. “We cannot stop, cousin,” he said. “We must warn the Refuge, or at least return to aid in what must be a war above.”

Crystal looked at him with a fierce determination. “We’ll never make it,” she said, hearing the Skrulls rampaging closer. “We’ve been lucky so far, but the Grand Slope is just ahead. We’ll be ‘sitting ducks’ as the Humans say; easy targets.”

Triton knew that she was correct. The slope was a wide tunnel that would easily accommodate the squad pursuing them, as well as the massive Sentry with its gradual incline leaving them fair game. There was at least a mile with no side tunnels, nowhere to hide or take cover. Their only other option was to stand and fight, and that was an option that would figuratively leave Crystal on her own. Triton had no ranged powers, and though his strength was greater than normal and more than enough against the common Skrull, he would be cut down before he got close enough to employ it. And then there was the Sentry…

He looked to Crystal again, ready to continue their flight and ignore her logic. He would not leave her alone to die. She however was holding out Puppy.

“Go,” she said grimly. “Warn the king. Help our people. I’ll deal with these.”

“No!” he argued, his voice rising even as Crystal thrust the ‘dog’ into his hands. He started to protest as the wind started to rise about them. He saw Crystal’s eyes crackling as a charge of electrical static built in the air. The wind started whipping her long red hair about her face as she gave him a long look, a quick smile. Then she stepped around the bend and the air exploded in light and thunder!

Crystal Amaquelin surprised the Skrulls with her sudden appearance, stepping directly into their path and striking a defiant pose. They were yet a dozen yards away in the arching corridor, the Sentry lumbering behind the six warriors all armed and armored. Not that that mattered.

Not that she cared. They had dared attack her home, apparently declaring war with their invasion of Attilan and for that alone their lives were forfeit. She stood poised for a moment, a heartbeat as she gathered the force of her gift about her. Wind gushed, racing past and swirling about her as the static charge of lightning grew. Her swirling, whipping hair stood out as her eyes blazed. Her fingers started to tingle and burn with the energies bursting to be unleashed at her whim. Crystal watched as the Skrulls, seeing no threat from a mere woman and Inhuman regained their momentum and continued their charge. They raised their weapons, preparing to fire as Crystal smiled and flung her arms outward unleashing the elements that were hers to command.

Lightning flared, crackling back down the corridor and enveloping her foes; Skrulls and Sentry included. The metal in all their armored forms acted as a rod, attracting her energies with a vengeance, enhancing the power of her blast. Thunder boomed as the static charge pierced the sound barrier, the reverberations shaking the ancient stone corridor with enough force to crack the path and bring great chunks of rubble raining down on the electrified and frozen Skrulls. She ignored their screams as one by one they fell, whether charred and smoldering from electrocution or pummeled and broken from the falling debris. She did not care. They had chosen their fate with their assault, whether simple soldiers obeying higher command or the zealots that hated Earthlings that she recalled from encounters with the Fantastic Four. Their destiny was chosen with their first step on Lunar soil, their first leap against Inhuman-kind.

Yet even as the last Skrull fell, the Exquisite Elemental continued her retaliation. She thrust her arm forward again, redirecting the gale force winds that raced past her, her fingers twisting to a tight formation to drive the winds into piercing pressure. She could feel the air escaping with the blow, the very pressure of the tunnel increasing, though she stood unscathed. The elements in all their varied form had always been her friend; the air sweetening at her pleasure, water chilling to quench her thirst, fire dancing for her entertainment. And when she was threatened, they raged to protect her.

She watched as the Sentry Sinister continued its ponderous advance. The winds were pummeling, pushing against automated musculature that knew no fatigue, but slowed against the force none the less. Electricity danced and crackled over alien metal, a strange show that might have been beautiful but for the robot’s deadly intent. The falling stone had done little but scar the machine’s armored body, this robot all but identical to others that had survived the mightiest blows of the Thing and the Avengers’ Vision.

Thoom…

Thoom…

Thoom…

The monster plodded on, and Crystal could ‘see’ the magnetic forces that it was employing, tapping into the Moon’s own field to aid in its forward tread. She laughed, knowing then what she had to do even as she directed another bolt of lightning into the robot’s chest. She saw the monstrosity’s eyes brighten with the charge as it hesitated, no doubt letting internal computers take over to repair its suddenly overloaded systems…

As planned.

Thunder smashed the tunnel again, even as Crystal made a fist to add to the rumbling carnage. Stone again rained down in a hideous torrent as the corridor quaked at the Inhuman’s direction. The path rippled and bulged, the ancient brick rocking, the walls cracking under duress. The winds roared and caught the falling stone, Crystal’s fingers flickering as magnetic waves joined the howling fury of the wind, the staggering magnitude of the Lunar quake that centered on the staggering robot.

She could see the machine sparking and stuttering in jerky motion as its computerized brain tried to compensate with the erratic elemental onslaught. Crystal’s smile tightened as she felt the final force needed rising to her wish, to do her bidding from below. It was a strain, not to call the forces into play but to maintain such a tight and rigid control. She needed a precision that she had not since her time with the Avengers, facing Proctor and his minions. Everything had to be perfect, and then held in check until the time was right.

And as expected, ice started to form on the Sentry, along the cracked and pitching floor and walls. Crystal saw her breath as it was drawn from her lips, a wispy tendril dissipating in the fierce winds. The temperature was dropping as the pressure in the tunnel increased. Metal skin yet sparked and sparkled as electricity continued its wild dance. Stone cascaded, staggering the robot.

At last a flash, a spark from within as the Sentry’s armor was breached. With a shout of triumph, Crystal made an upward gesture with her left arm while creating a tight fist with her right hand. The floor at once exploded as a geyser of water burst through from the watery depths and sunken rivers running beneath the Blue Area of the Moon. She heard a squeal that sounded almost like a shriek of agony as the electricity flared, excited by both the water and the frigid cold, all three now circulating within the robot’s metallic hide. And as the Sentry danced at her whim, Crystal brought the tunnel crashing down upon him.

The robot vanished under tons of falling stone that drove him down, through the gash in the flooring, succumbing to the grip of the very magnetic field that it had been tapping. Amidst the deluge of water and rock, with its armor rent it would be hard-pressed to survive as it was dragged into the deepest of the Depths; perhaps crushed, perhaps shorted by water and static. Perhaps not.

Whatever, the robot was gone, as were whatever remained of the fallen Skrulls. Crystal stared at the debris, the collapsed tunnel as she let go her hold on the elements. Once again they had come to her aid, and she was grateful, blessing her friends farewell once again.

“Agon.”

Crystal started at the voice and spun, ready to defend herself until she saw Triton standing before her. Puppy squirmed in his arms, long tongue lolling and dripping.

“I forget just how powerful you can be, cousin.”

“Why are you still here?” she asked, only a bit annoyed. “You could have been back to the palace by now.”

“Not quite,” he replied, ignoring her slight ire. “I was not about to leave you behind, however powerful you are, or fool hardy.” Triton smiled.

“A family trait I think. But now we best – “

But before Crystal could finish her thought, both Inhumans were suddenly alert as a strange crackling glow sparked before the heaping mound of debris. It sparkled and flashed, growing in brilliance and size. Puppy started to bark even as Triton stepped forward to shield her, his younger cousin.

“Get back!” he shouted. “It must be the Sentry’s doing, trying to return! I’ll – “

“Wait!”

Triton startled, feeling the soft hand on his shoulder, the gentle squeeze of Crystal’s grip as she eased past him confidently.

“Don’t you recognize it?” she asked, her voice suddenly light with excitement, almost giddy. And then Triton suddenly relaxed with understanding. She felt his tension ease.

“It’s Lockjaw,” they both said almost in unison, watching together as the great beast emerged from the temporal portal that it had created; first a shadowy hulk that slowly gained color and definition. And Crystal noticed that the huge Inhuman was not alone…

Triton stared into the glowing brilliance as the travelers stepped forward; a Human woman carrying a babe cradled in her left arm, her right hand gripping that of a boy. He knew that they were friends, or at least safe. Lockjaw would never transport an enemy to the Great Refuge, and in fact would deter any that tried to use him and his gift by visiting a wide array of far off planets, and even dimensions.

The woman was dressed in soiled and tattered coverall that was smeared with grease and dark, dried spots that could be patches of blood. There was a tear above her right breast that partially obscured the long number stitched into the thin, ragged fabric and showed a nasty cut beneath. Her dirt smeared face seemed strangely familiar, though he thought he recalled a full head of hair rather than the raggedy buzz cut that she wore now. The blonde child in her arms too seemed known to his memory; a girl by the looks and young, but the boy he recognized immediately, and with that recognition, all fell into place.

“Franklin!” Crystal shouted, stepping forward to scoop the boy up into her arms. Triton could hear the joy in her voice, cracking even as she tried to control her sobs, hugging tightly young Franklin Richards, son and progeny of Reed Richards and Susan Richards of the Fantastic Four. He noted that the boy was sobbing too, though trying harder than she to control it. He stepped up to the woman, dropping Puppy to the ground to greet his long-missing sire.

“Thank God,” the woman said with a great sigh of relief. Triton saw the woman sag with exhaustion, almost ready to collapse but holding the child in her care with a tender strength. He recalled the woman now, when he had arrived at the Baxter Building weeks prior to retrieve the missing and overdue Medusa and Crystal from the Fantastic Four. The encounter had been brief and tense, and he had seen the woman in the background but other concerns of family and state had overruled his reason. He did not know her name, but she carried the daughter of Mister Fantastic and the Invisible Woman; Valeria Richards. Triton reached out to steady the woman, as she looked on the verge of collapse, but she shied back, her eyes suddenly wide and alert as she clutched the baby even tighter.

“No!” she shouted, stumbling back against Lockjaw’s immovable frame. Triton raised his hands to show peace, that he meant no harm and was startled by the low rumbling growl as Lockjaw snarled, bearing teeth – at him!

“Lockjaw!” Crystal shouted, placing a hand into the thick folds of the Inhuman’s furry skin. At her touch, the animal eased, its growl lowering to almost a purr as Crystal rubbed a tender spot to calm the beast. She eased Franklin Richards to the ground then as she stared at the woman, her own dark eyes now locked on Crystal’s dazzling blue.

“Debbie? What’s happened?” Crystal asked, and Triton saw the woman lick her lips, glancing about uneasily. She had seemed all right for a moment, relieved until he had stepped forward. Now she seemed wild and ready to run.

“Let me take Val, Debra,” Crystal continued, her voice soft and soothing. Triton remained motionless, his hands in plain sight so as not to startle the young woman. “You look exhausted. Relax. You’re among friends.”

The woman- Debra- glanced from Crystal to Triton and back. Her eyes were wild, but slowly her body started to relax again as the sudden tension drained away.

“It’s okay, Debbie,” Franklin said, his voice choked but trying to sound strong. “Auntie Crystal an’ Uncle Triton will help us now. We ‘scaped. We’re safe.”

Safe was debatable, but Triton wondered where they had all ‘escaped’ from. Earth? What did they know of what was happening down there, and just where was the Fantastic Four?

“Safe?” the woman gasped, her voice quivering and Triton saw Franklin nod. His eyes sparkled as he touched a calming hand on her hip. Debra’s eyes rolled up in her head as her legs finally gave way. Triton was at her side immediately, one arm about her, the other catching the Richards’ daughter. He eased the woman to the cool, cracked stone.

“What happened, Franklin?” Crystal asked as she stepped up, looking down at the woman, unconscious on the ground. “Where’s your family?”

“Who is this?” Triton finally asked, and Crystal answered.

“Debra Bernard, Agent of SHIELD and Nanny to the Fantastic Four.”

But even as Triton tried to assimilate that information, Franklin sobbed again.

“I couldn’t find ‘em,” he said, his tiny voice cracking again. “I tried! I found Debbie, but I couldn’t find Mommy an’ Daddy! Unca Johnny!” Triton’s heart lurched as the boy’s speech slurred with the overwhelming of emotion. He was crying now.

“I could feel ‘em, but… I couldn’t… couldn’t… “

Crystal hugged Franklin close, shushing him, cooing softly in his ear. Triton looked at the child in his own arms, incredibly asleep through all of this.

“An’ Uncle Ben,” the boy said, his voice steeling just a tiny bit. “I couldn’t feel him at all!”

Crystal glanced up at Triton, her blue eyes huge with wonder and questions. Triton could only shrug.

What in the name of Agon was happening?

NEXT: This was going to be the last issue, but I do tend to ramble, so, the Invasion will continue next issue, and conclude where we will see:

Black Bolt cut loose…

Crystal abandon her family…

Ronan the Accuser actually use that big stick he carries…

And a special Guest Appearance by…

But that would spoil the surprise. Be here for my final issue of the Fantastic Four that does not include any of them. And a Child…

And no, I’m not leaving Marvel Omega, just shifting gears. Wait for it.