Niles Van Roekel’s eyes traveled amongst each of the assembled superhumans before him. First he looked at a man with diodes protruding from his bare torso and bald head, goggles concealing his eyes and electricity arcing around his body. “Before we begin, I first would like to congratulate Johnny Ohm for his superb work in Seattle.”

John Ostrum listened as Roekel continued his spiel. Although he was more focused on the screams that came from the Space Needle as he electrocuted the visitors that day. The smell of burning skin. The convulsing bodies. The beautiful lightning traveling between each and every one of them like a chain. It reminded him of his own execution in prison decades earlier. Twice they tried electrocuting him and twice they failed. Before the third attempt, lightning struck the prison, shorting out the system. Shortly after, the death penalty was banned in the state and Ostrum lived out his sentence covered in electrical burns. When Roekel came to him, Ostrum was an old and bitter man, but his resistance to electricity led Roekel to transform John Ostrum into Johnny Ohm.

“The first phase of the plan has gone perfectly, and our employer has the motivation necessary to proceed with the next phase,” said Roekel. “AIM is similarly pleased with the funding they’ve put into our operation, and the results of the Imperfects Project.”

“When do we get what we were promised?” The woman who spoke had her head concealed beneath a hood which cast a shadow over her face—save for her glowing, yellow eyes. Benedetta Gaetani, daughter of famous magicians in Italy. But after the disappearance of her mother, her father incurred gambling debts. The loan sharks came after her, scarring her face with chemicals and then killing her father. Before they could kill Benedetta, she vanished. Roekel found her in Spain working as a fortune teller and gave her an opportunity to be reunited with her mother as well as revenge on the men who killed her father.

“In time, my dear Wink. You’ll all get what you’ve been promised.” Roekel’s eyes traveled next to Fault Zone. “It matters not if you simply want revenge on the world which has scarred you—” Maria Petrova was a prodigy in the Imperial Russian Ballet. At the age of fifteen, on what was to be the biggest opening of her young life, Petrova was paralyzed in a car accident. With the aid of cybernetic technology, Roekel returned Petrova’s ability to move.

“—or to find a cure for your condition.” Roekel’s gaze next fell on Hazmat. Keith Kilham, a military scientist whose work on curing deadly diseases was destroyed by a terrorist attack. He injected himself with his synthetic antigens in order to prevent the terrorists from getting their hands on them. His body deteriorated and Roekel grafted a microbondic shell for his body, salvaging what they could of his organs.

“Some of you simply want the opportunity to learn more,” said Roekel, now looking at Solara. Reiko Kurokaki was the product of an affair her mother had while the man she was married to, Yakuza leader Kazuya Morimoto, was imprisoned. Insane with rage, Morimoto burned the house to the ground with Reiko and her mother inside. Somehow, Reiko survived and was adopted by a couple in London. She eventually earned advanced degrees in physics, becoming an expert in cold combustion fuels. During a lecture, an explosion killed all but her and Roekel sought her out to study her resistance to fire.

“And others are simply interested in the thrill of the hunt.” The last of the Imperfects stood together. Brigade had been an attempt to fuse together the consciousnesses of a hundred-man Marine Corps Recon platoon into the body the platoon’s commanding officer, Rick Landau. And then Paragon, who had once been an Amazonian warrior named Maya. Roekel put her into statis, believing her to be the perfect candidate following more research. After the creation of the other Imperfects, the refined technology was used to create Paragon.

“Whatever your desires, I promise you that you will have all you desire—and much, much more,” said Roekel. “This is an imperfect world, and you will be the ones to usher in a new paradise.”

COST OF IMPERFECTION

Part II

By Hunter Lambright and Dino Pollard

Washington, DC

Under the cover of night, a portal opened in the center of a tree-lined area in one of Washington’s parks. When the portal dissipated, the members of Force Works stood with Belova loading her handguns.

“Take it easy,” said the Black Knight, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We don’t want to draw undue attention to ourselves.

“Don’t worry, Knight. Sensors aren’t picking up anyone in the immediate area,” said War Machine. “Cyber, you got a location?”

“The money is connected to a research laboratory a few miles from here,” said Cybermancer.

“And you’re sure this money is connected to AIM?” asked the Black Knight.

“It’s only a theory at this point, but if my calculations are correct, there’s definitely some sort of connection,” said Cybermancer. “It’s worth checking out.”

“For one, yes,” said the Black Widow. “Entire team unnecessary. You only slow me down.”

“After what happened the last time we went on a simple recon mission, I’m glad we’ve got some back-up,” said the 3-D Man. “Last thing I need is being locked in a room with a trigger-happy Russian and a robot with multiple personalities.”

“You have issues/concerns/problems with those who have multiple personalities?” asked Century.

3-D Man smiled. “Not you, Blue. You’re good in my book. Some other people, though…”

“Shut it, Garrett, we don’t have time for one of your ‘when I was an Avenger…’ stories. We’ve got a job to do, so let’s do it,” said Deathlok. “Belova, Bridge put you in charge of this op, so where to next?”

“Cybermancer knows location, so for now, just follow. When we arrive, I give you orders,” said the Black Widow.

“It’s not that simple.” The X-Man hovered above the park, glancing around as his trench coat billowed behind him, his eye crackling with energy. “Things aren’t as they appear.”

“Of course they’re not, they’re never the way they appear,” said the Black Knight. “Do you ever say anything besides that? And could you stop drawing attention to yourself?”

“This is nothing more than a distraction,” said the X-Man. “We—”

Something rapidly flew behind the X-Man, knocking him hard on the back of his head. He fell from the sky. The 3-D Man was in motion, running towards him and leaping in the air, catching Nate Grey in his arms.

“What the hell just happened?” asked the Black Knight.

“He’s out, that’s what,” said 3-D Man. “Something knocked him unconscious.”

“Isn’t he supposed to be the most powerful telepath on the planet?” asked the Black Knight. “What could’ve snuck up on him?”

“Psychic attack?” asked Cybermancer.

“Since when do psychic attacks leave nasty bumps on your head?” asked the 3-D Man. “’Cause he’s sportin’ one.”

A figure landed before them. Her body was lined with some sort of organic, alien technology although her facial features were completely human. Attached to her forearms and ankles were long, curved blades. “I’m invisible to his sight,” she said.

The Black Widow stood, drawing her weapons. “Not to mine.” She pulled the triggers on her handguns rapidly, bullets flying from both barrels. The woman called Paragon fell before the assault. Yelena Belova moved to her deceased opponent, standing over Paragon’s lifeless form.

Paragon’s legs swung around, toppling the Black Widow. Before she could hit the ground, Paragon moved with incredible speed, getting to her feet and driving her knee into the Widow’s back. She grabbed the Widow and tossed her aside like a doll.

“You are not welcome here.” Paragon deflected a strike from the Black Knight’s sword with her own blade, while simultaneously blocking 3-D Man’s rapid attacks as if he were moving in slow-motion. She grabbed Garrett’s arm and threw him into Whitman.

Paragon bent backwards to avoid a strike from Century’s battle-axe, Parallax. She placed her hands on the ground to support her as a cartwheel kicked knocked Century back. Bullets flew at her from both Deathlok and War Machine. Paragon deflected a few with her blades, then jumped over them and landed in front of Deathlok. She punched him in the abdomen, then struck at his chest. Truman fell back a bit and opened his mouth, the laser located there about to fire.

Paragon moved behind him with superhuman speed, wrapping one arm around his neck and the other hand grasping his head, directing the laser directly at War Machine. She picked Deathlok up and threw him into War Machine, and then flew off as quickly as she came.

“Damn, that was like Superhero Amateur Hour,” said the 3-D Man. “You see how easily she kicked our asses?”

“She didn’t kick our asses, just held us off long enough to get away,” said War Machine. He turned his attention to Cybermancer. “And where the hell were you?”

“Doing my job. While you were all too busy using your fists to solve your problems, I was analyzing her armor,” said Cybermancer.

“Why not analyze it after we pry it off her dead body?” asked War Machine.

“I understand you’re little more than a blunt instrument, Jacobs, so I’ll try to speak slowly so you understand,” said Cybermancer. “Her armor was emitting a transponder signal. Someone is tracking her. Do you think it’s a coincidence that we arrive in DC following this trail and all of a sudden, a marvel we’ve never seen or heard of attacks us? And what about the marvel in Seattle? Think that’s another coincidence?”

“You think they’re connected,” said the Black Knight.

“Of course they are. The Seattle attack has been used to drum up support for Sharpe’s Superhuman Registration Act,” said Cybermancer. “The AIM money trail is connected to that bill. And we get attacked by another superhuman as we’re following it.”

“AIM and Sharpe are working together, creating superhuman terrorists,” said Deathlok.

“If this Sharpe woman hates marvels, why the hell would she be creating them?” asked War Machine.

“It makes perfect sense, actually,” said Century. “The bill proposes the theory that marvels are too dangerous to operate without oversight/management/control. What better way to prove/demonstrate/validate that theory than by having marvels run amok?”

“That transponder signal, can you trace it?” asked the Black Knight.

“Do you have to guess where it’s coming from?” asked Cybermancer.

“The research laboratory we’re after,” said the Black Knight. “Okay, here’s the plan. Century, take X-Man back to the Infiltrator. Looks like Paragon did a number on him and we’re not leaving him here. Then rendezvous with us at the—”

“What are you doing?” asked the Black Widow. “I command this mission.”

“You were in command when this was just a recon mission. Now it’s turned into an assault mission, which means I’m in charge,” said the Black Knight. “So either fall in line or Century can take you back as well. I’m not in the mood to put up with your crap, Belova.”

The Widow’s glare followed the Black Knight as the rest of the team moved past her and trailed behind him. Century came up to her side, holding the X-Man over his shoulder. “Pardon me, Widow. Would you like me to escort you back to the Infiltrator as well?”

“Otebis,” she said.

“I speak Russian. That was quite rude/impolite/uncalled for.”

The Widow rolled her eyes and followed the rest of her team. Century shrugged and used Parallax to create a portal back to the Infiltrator.

“What is this place?” asked the 3-D Man.

No one had an answer. Monitors lined the walls, as well as many tubes filled with green, yellow and red liquid, compounds which had a strange, ethereal glow to them. Attached to the monitors, tubes and wires, connecting them together, was a type of organic technology. Similar to what they saw in Paragon’s armor.

“Whatever it is, I’m pretty sure it’s not from this world,” said Deathlok.

Cybermancer’s armor picked up a reading. “SCATTER!” she shouted, as a small explosion erupted before them. Through the flames stepped Niles Van Roekel, clad in a purple suit of armor equipped with two long blades extending from each gauntlet.

The Black Knight stepped forward, pointing his sword at their new opponent. “You’ve got one chance to explain yourself.”

“I know, and I won’t be taking it!” Roekel fired an energy blast from his gauntlet and the Black Knight raised the Shield of Night to defend himself. It absorbed the impact blast and the Sword of Light began to glow in response.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” said the Black Knight. He took aim with his sword and redirected the energy fired by Roekel, knocking the armored opponent back. The Knight charged forward, swinging the sword with wild abandon.

“Cover me!” ordered Cybermancer as she moved to the databanks. Components flipped open on her forearms, wires snaking out from the gauntlets and into ports on the equipment. “I need some time to hack into his system.”

At first, Roekel was on defense, blocking the Black Knight’s attacks. But then, he allowed Whitman to bring the sword down and then snagged it within his own blades. Roekel smiled and sidestepped just as War Machine came into him, driving the sword into his armor. But before Roekel could enjoy his moment, lasers courtesy of Deathlok struck his armored form, as well as bullets from the Black Widow. The 3-D Man moved where he could, trying to get in whatever strikes possible.

Roekel grinned and turned to Cybermancer. “I have remote access to my systems. But if you’d like to see the files, then by all means…”

The servers flooded Cybermancer’s armor with data, images flashing across her retina at an alarming speed. She saw the remains of the platoon that were pieced together in a Frankenstein-like fashion to create Brigade. The teleportation device lodged in the Wink’s stomach. The crystals implanted inside Solara. The diodes and technology fitted on Johnny Ohm. Cybernetics forcibly fused to Fault Zone’s spine, including the seismic generator. The shells they had to use to contain Hazmat. And the torture and brutal training, not to mention invasive surgical procedures performed on Paragon.

Cybermancer cried out in horror. The 3-D Man dodged several strikes from Roekel with his superhuman speed and agility. He jumped at Cybermancer, pulling her from the console, forcibly disconnecting her from the system. Garrett raised up her visor, gently slapping her on the cheek.

“Suzi, you alright? C’mon girl, snap out of it!”

“He….you didn’t see it…” muttered Suzi. “The things he did…my god, he’s not even human.”

“No appreciation for scientific breakthroughs, I suppose,” said Roekel with a sick grin.

“How’s this for a scientific breakthrough?” Deathlok pounced on Roekel and opened his mouth, unleashing his laser at point-blank range. Roekel screamed as he knocked Deathlok off, his face now burned and scarred.

Whitman came back at Roekel from behind, slicing into his armor with the Sword of Light. War Machine attacked next, grabbing the tear in the armor and pulling it open, cracking it like a nut. Roekel screamed as the armor shorted out and the Black Widow took him down for the count with an electrical blast from her bracelet that knocked him unconscious.

The Black Knight saw the 3-D Man still trying to help Cybermancer. “Truman, Endo’s still out of it. Get Bridge for me.”

“Deathlok to Infiltrator, do you read?”

“Infiltrator here. What’s your situation?”

“We’ve got who we think might be the ringleader here. Cybermancer downloaded some information from his system, but she’s down for the moment. What’s the status on X-Man?”

“He should be fine. I wanna know who this guy is and I wanna know no—”

Cybermancer lowered her visor and piggy-backed on Deathlok’s signal. “I’m here.”

“What’ve you got for me, Cybermancer?”

“His name is Niles Van Roekel. The files detail gruesome experiments in order to create a group of superhumans, known as the Imperfects Project. Funds from AIM are definitely being funneled into this program. And there’s something else. The attack on the Space Needle was just the beginning. I have files detailing other locations as well.”

“Century is returning to your location and he’s going to transport Roekel here as well as transport the rest of you to those locations the Imperfects plan to hit. Infiltrator out.”

The Infiltrator

The SCUBA diver’s head broke through the surface of the water. The large ship simply sat there, motionless. He approached the hull, placing his fingertips on it. The magnetized gloves allowed him to cling to the hull and climb up.

Once he reached the deck, he pulled himself onboard. He removed the diving mask and breathing apparatus. Taking off the skintight black mask attached to his wetsuit revealed a shaggy mane of dark hair.

“Well Slade, you made it onboard,” he whispered to himself. “Hard part’s over, I guess.”

{Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.}

Moonraker heard the voice echoing in his head. He spun around, trying to find some location for it. He removed his glove and his hand began glowing with bright plasma.

{Slade Truman, codename Moonraker. Do you know who I am?}

“Yeah, I read the file on you,” said Moonraker to the young man who wore only a pair of leather pants, an X tattooed on his chest. “The X-Man.”

Nate smiled. {Your night’s just beginning, Slade.}